Falling Is Like This
by Kouri Arashi
Summary: Sequel to Live Through and Somewhere. Uhm... Hisoka is mysteriously losing his powers. I know it sounds cheesy, but it isn't, really.
1. Prologue

_Author's Notes: Well. Here it is. The third in the trilogy. (Please don't let there be more sequels, heh.) Sequel to Live Through and Somewhere I Have Never Been. Don't attempt to read this without having read them, or you'll be one bewildered puppy. _

Warnings: Yaoi, Tsuzuki/Hisoka. Violence, OCs, and of course all the angst of the first two. Also, cliffhangers and long waits between chapters. This is not my top priority right now (should I be saying that?) so it may take a while for each new chapter. 

Additional Warning: Based off the anime, not the manga. See previous warnings for the other two stories. 

Disclaimer: If Hisoka and Tsuzuki were really mine, I'd be way too busy to write fanfiction of any kind. Lyrics and title are stolen from Ani Difranco. Wedding vows are stolen from The DeathGate Cycles, by Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman. 

Falling Is Like This 

"I'm sorry I can't help you  
I cannot keep you safe  
I'm sorry I can't help myself  
So don't look at me that way  
You can't fight gravity on a planet that insists  
that love is like falling and falling is like this." 

Prologue 

    Okay. Someone explain to me exactly how I got talked into this. So Tsuzuki and I are blood-bound. Why the hell do we need to go through this stupid tradition of a wedding? It's just an excuse for everyone to sit around and drink champagne and wear stupid looking clothes. 

    Hm, Tsuzuki's wearing a tuxedo . . . pardon me while I go off into a corner and drool in private. 

    Right, so, anyway. Tsuzuki and I are getting married, and it's really a pointless ceremony since we're bound together by blood, but let's not go into that. The whole messy story can basically be summed up to the fact that Muraki is an asshole and I really need to find a way to kill him at the next available opportunity. 

    Tsuzuki is in a tuxedo, and much to my chagrin, so am I. I tried to talk my way out of that, but Akimiya (who somehow, totally beyond my understanding, ended up coordinating the whole thing, saying that he was the only one who knew anything about weddings, which I suppose is true) insisted. And man, he really went for everything. There's even cake. There's two cakes. Tsuzuki and I get one of our own, mostly because we all know that Tsuzuki can eat more cake than everyone else here put together. 

    I have no idea what's supposed to happen at traditional Japanese weddings, apart from the general cliches. I've never seen one. So Akimiya says we'll go with a western style wedding, and tried to be the best man, but Tsuzuki insisted that be Tatsumi. I offered to let Akimiya by the maid of honor, but he didn't seem very thrilled by that suggestion. Somehow Wakaba ended up snagging that position, which amuses me terribly because I don't see why we need a maid of honor. But then we go back to the fact that I don't see why we need a wedding at all. 

    And Tsuzuki just has to play it up, of course. At least he's agreed to be the 'bride', so to speak, but mostly because people kept asking if I was, and my face was turning a rather bright shade of red that clashed with my eyes. So he's the bride. And would probably be wearing a white dress if it weren't for the fact that I'd kill him, wedding or no. 

    The Earl offered to preside over the marriage, but that made Tsuzuki singularly nervous, so we respectfully declined. There aren't any priests here, but Konoe-kachou offered to do it, and that's about as close to an authority figure as we could get. 

    We debated for a long time on the vows, since we didn't want to use normal ones, nor did we want to repeat the blood bind. So we stand up there in our expensive tuxes. Tsuzuki just wants to get to the cake. I just want to get back into a sweatshirt and jeans. And Konoe is dragging this out, probably solely to amuse himself. I mean, how often does he get the chance? 

    So, Tatsumi is the best man and Wakaba is the maid of honor. Who's the ringbearer? 003, of course. Don't ask me how that happened. I think I slept through it. 

    He carries the rings right up and drops them into Tatsumi's outstretched palm. Okay, I just started giggling, and now Akimiya is giving me a wounded look. He takes this whole wedding thing far too seriously. 

    Tatsumi clears his throat and jabs me in the ribs with his elbow, recalling my attention to the proceedings. Right, vows. Tsuzuki puts the ring on my finger, and I do the same for him. They're simple white gold with a leaf pattern engraved on them. The vows we came up with are simple, but forceful, and perhaps mean just as much as the blood bind. We say them softly, in unison. Everyone can hear; the words echo in the silence. 

    "My life for your life." I will spent the rest of my life with you. "My death for your death." I will not go on without you. "My death for your life." I would die to save your life. "My life for your death." If I cannot save you, I will give my life to bring you vengeance. 

    There's a brief moment of silence, and I can see from the look on Akimiya's face that he's thinking something along the lines of 'well, that was cheerful.' 

    "This I swear," Tsuzuki says softly, and kisses my forehead. 

    "This I swear," I echo, and return the gesture. 

    There's another moment of silence, this one longer, hanging in the air. I know I shouldn't feel different, because it's just a formality, but I do. And I feel my eyes brimming with tears that for once I'm not ashamed of. I'm not ashamed of anything anymore. 

    Konoe clears his throat, breaking the moment, which is okay. "By the power invested in me," (by Akimiya, really), "I now pronounce you married." That was a kicker. I mean, you can't say "man and wife", can you? "You may kiss the . . . uh . . . you may kiss each other." 

    I start to giggle, but Tsuzuki kisses me, and all thoughts of giggling are banished. Then he smiles, pulls away, and says, "Let's have some cake!!" 

    Right. My husband, ladies and gentlemen. 

    He goes puppy and bounds off towards the refreshments. Akimiya stops and shakes my hand. "Congratulations," he says with a smile. "Just think, for the rest of my afterlife I can tease you about how it never would have happened without me." 

    I roll my eyes. "We would've gotten it together eventually. I just would have taken a whole lot longer." 

    "So you say," he says, and puts an arm around Rika's waist. "Be happy, Hisoka. Really." 

    "I will be," I say, then amend that. "I am." 

    "Good for you." He wanders off in the direction of the champange, and I watch him go. Akimiya is happy with Rika, but it's a bittersweet sort of happiness. She'll age, of course, and he won't. They'll never grow old together. And eventually she'll die, and they'll be separated until he chooses to give up his position as a Shinigami. I have a feeling it won't be long afterwards. But who can really blame him? 

    They had traditional vows, of course. "With this ring, I thee wed . . ." et cetera. 

    Tsuzuki and I get the first dance, which is okay even though I hate dancing and, in my personal opinion, am not very good at it. But somehow dancing with Tsuzuki is different. I just sort of melt into his deep purple eyes and never really have any idea of how much time has passed. 

    But we only dance for a little while before the cake is cut and the champagne is opened and we begin a regular old-fashioned gorging session. 

    It seems funny to be married. I mean, for reasons aside from the fact that I'm only sixteen physically and around nineteen in terms of actual years existed. And that Tsuzuki is twenty-six (or somewhere around there) and one hundred respectively. It just feels strange because there's so much left that I don't know about him. 

    But I suppose if I want to be introspective, there's a great deal I don't know about myself, either. 

    That's all right, though. I mean, we have eternity to learn everything. To find everything. Though I suppose it's possible it may end someday, I certainly have no intention of letting that be any time soon. 

    So we dance, long past the time when everyone else has grown bored with it, because it just feels right to be standing there in the protective circle of our embrace. Being close to each other. Being one. 

    It's brief, when it happens -- a moment of dizziness. I'm forced to lean against him, shaking my head slightly. 

    "You okay?" he asks, and it's gone. 

    "Yeah, I'm fine," I reply. "Bit too much champagne, I think. Besides, I'm tired. It's been a long day." 

    He nods, and accepts it. 

    But I wonder. 

~~~~ 

_Right. Feedback please?_


	2. Chapter One

_Yay! Chapter One! Warnings for cuteness, angst, Hisoka rambling, the fact that this has not been betaed, and a long wait before chapter 2._

Chapter One 

    I have been a Shinigami for three years at this point. It seems like I've been caught in a time warp. Half the days seemed to drag on unending, but now that I look back, I can't help but think 'three years? It's really been three years?' It feels like yesterday that I was just meeting Tsuzuki for the first time, first wondering why there was a floating chicken (two of them, no less) in our ranks, first learning that there were people who would not condemn me for what and who I was. 

    Three years isn't that long, not really, not when you've got eternity or close to it. 

    I told Akimiya once that dying was the best thing that ever happened to me, and that sounds strange, but it's true. My life was certainly nothing to be thankful for, but my afterlife, though it's had its definite agonizing moments, has been so wonderful at times that I almost couldn't believe it. 

    Tsuzuki alone would be worth dying for. Going through all the fires of hell for. 

    I consider myself very lucky, which seems odd to me. The first thirteen years of my life were spent in the cold, in the dark, and utterly alone. The three years after that were worse. But now I honestly believe I'm one of the luckiest people in existence. Tsuzuki and I have the kind of love that most people only dream about, read about, or write about. Love unending, eternal devotion. 

    But now I'm getting sappy. Still, it's hard not to be sappy when you're lying in bed with your one true love, yadda yadda yadda. Even harder when you're burrowed underneath the blankets in perfect warmth and contentment. 

    We're never apart anymore. Not really. 

    Soon after we first met, Tsuzuki learned about my unfortunate habit of 'synching' with people. I'm really not sure that's the right word for it, but I can't come up with anything else, so it'll have to do. When he touched me, I could feel his anger, his unhappiness, his pain. It hurt him that I wouldn't accept him as a partner. Of course, he had a right to be angry at me; I was trying to get into the prohibited library. 

    But now, whenever he touches me, I feel love, happiness, acceptance. And they aren't only my own feelings. Physical contact only strengthens the bond between us. Before the blood bind, I could reach out to him with my empathy. Now I don't need to anymore. He's always there, a presence in the back of my mind, and he tells me it's the same for him. I know if something upsets him, or amuses him, or bores him. We can't share thoughts, but sometimes I think sharing emotions is better. 

    And of course (I've gotten a lot less embarrassed about stuff like this), it certainly adds an interesting dimension . . . er . . . maybe I'm not less embarrassed. But if physical touch increases the sensation of oneness, I'll let your imagination figure out what it does to the bedroom activities. 

    It's amazing . . . just feeling how much he loves me. And knowing that he can feel how much I love him. We're truly bound now, deeper than the blood bind, deeper than the marriage vows. 

    One of my favorite things to do these days is sleep in. Lying in bed curled up with him, his skin pressed against mine, his contentment and love mingling with mine . . . it's almost better than sex. Almost. 

    So now, lying in bed, I'm feeling his peace and happiness, but there's a lingering sense of mischief in him. Uh oh. I don't know what he's got planned for me, but no good can come of this. We got a week off for our 'honeymoon', as Akimiya insisted on calling it, despite the fact that we've been living together for almost a year now, and this is the last day. But whatever he's planning is apparently going to wait, because neither of us feels the need to get up any time soon. 

    "It's almost noon, you know," he says, at length, right into my ear. That's enough to send a shiver up my spine. So much for getting out of bed. 

    "Mm hmm," I reply, snuggling closer. 

    "Do you want to spend our entire last day of vacation in bed?" he asks innocently. 

    I roll over so we're facing, and I can tell there's a gleam in my eye. Damn it, whatever happened to the time when I was stoic? Ah, well, Tsuzuki tore down the walls that surrounded me, and there's never been a need to put them back up. "Would you consider it time wasted?" 

    "Nnnnnno," he says, even more innocence radiating from him, "but I might have had plans." 

    "Yeah, I can feel that," I say dryly, running my hand through his hair. I love the way it feels between my fingers, but then again, I love everything about him. Yech, listen to me. I'm hopeless. It just took me so long to accept that someone cared for me – to believe that I was worth that care – that I have trouble not being overwhelmed by it. 

    He snickers. "Mou, Hisoka . . . you don't trust me?" 

    "Not when you've got that look in your eyes, I don't." 

    He bounces out of bed. As usual, the loss of the contact hits me hard. After spending a night wrapped in his embrace, the sudden absence of that warmth and emotion usually knocks me for a loop. I'm used to it by now, but it always takes me a second to adjust. Right, must not stare at Tsuzuki getting dressed. Right. "C'mon!" 

    I reluctantly climb out of the warm nest of blankets and search for my clothes. I can't find them, and I remember with a sudden blush that we weren't in the bedroom when I took them off. Whoops. I get out some from the closet and pull them on. Then Tsuzuki is tugging on my arm. 

    There's a cake in the center of the table, which might not necessarily be odd, given Tsuzuki's eating habits, but the candles in the center of it are already burning. And they haven't been for long. I blink at it. "Happy birthday!" Tsuzuki proclaims gleefully. 

    "It's not my birthday," I reply automatically. "And how did you get those lit?" 

    He looks incredibly pleased with himself. "Magic," he says, with a serious nod. "And it is so too your birthday. Or at least the anniversary of your becoming a Shinigami." 

    I give him a glance. "So it's my death-day." 

    "Uhm . . . if you want to be morbid, yes," he says, his tone teasing. 

    "Seriously, how did you get the candles lit?" 

    "He didn't," a new voice says, and I jump about fifty feet in the air. No wonder Tsuzuki chose to get dressed and wait for me to get dressed before leaving the bedroom. Tatsumi is standing in the other room, just as immaculate as ever. And . . . sheesh, so is Akimiya, Rika, and Watari. 

    "How the hell did you all get in here without me noticing?" I demand, but I already know the answer. My empathy has flickered out. Akimiya, that conniving little punk, hasn't taken his potion this morning. While I was still in the bedroom, he was far enough away that it didn't affect me, but I wouldn't have been able to feel him or the people near him. 

    Akimiya just smirks, knowing that I know the answer. "C'mon, you didn't think we'd let you sleep away your birthday, did you?" 

    "It's not my birthday," I repeat, and give Tsuzuki a slight glare. "Did you plan this?" 

    "Well, someone had to," Tsuzuki says, sticking his tongue out at me. 

    Not only is there cake, there's food. I recognize Rika's excellent cooking as soon as Tsuzuki piles a plate with food and shoves it at me. Ah well, it's hard to be angry when I know they've just done it for me. And why not celebrate the date of my death as my birthday? Though it might be more appropriate to call it my re-birthday. But I have a feeling that Tsuzuki would just give me a funny look if I said that. 

    And then it happens again, a sudden wash of dizziness that knocks me clear off my feet. I grab a chair as I fall and wind up sliding to the ground. For a brief moment, the world flickers out. Then I feel myself cradled in Tsuzuki's arms, his concern flooding through me. "Hisoka?" 

    "I'm okay . . ." But I'm not. I'm dizzy and the world feels very far away. I look up just in time to see a glance pass between Watari and Tatsumi. A glance of worry? Or understanding? I manage to get to my feet with Tsuzuki's help, and look at them. "What's wrong with me?" I ask. "You know, I know you do, I can feel it – " But I can't, because I have no empathy. The world fades again and I sag back into Tsuzuki's arms. He helps me into a chair. 

    Tatsumi walks over to me. "What's wrong?" 

    "Dizzy," I manage. "World's fuzzy." Akimiya and Rika look bewildered. 

    Tatsumi nods, as if expecting this. "It happens occasionally to Shinigami. It's kind of like a virus. Maybe you should take a few more days off?" 

    He's lying, I know damn well he's lying, and he knows it too. I've never seen anyone have this problem in the entire three years I've been here. But with my empathy out because of Akimiya, I can't say anything. "Aa . . ." 

    "Dizzy?" Tsuzuki is frowning slightly, and I look back at Tatsumi just in time to see him deliver a warning look. Tsuzuki's eyes widen, and he momentarily looks stricken, then his face returns to normal. "Oh," he says, then repeats softly, "Oh." 

    "What?" I ask. Now I'm panicking. 

    "Nothing!" he says quickly, and that forced cheer I got so used to in my first two years of partnership with him is back. "Let's have cake, ne?" He sprouts ears and tail and goes back to the table. Tatsumi follows him. 

    "What the hell was that all about?" Akimiya murmurs. He looks just as confused as I feel, and I'm willing to bet he doesn't know what's going on. 

    "I don't know," I reply quietly. "I'll ask Tsuzuki about it tonight, once everyone else is gone. Virus my ass." But it bothers me. Tatsumi never lies, not without reason. There's something very wrong here, and I don't know what it is. 

~~~~ 

    "So what was that all about earlier?" I ask Tsuzuki, once everyone else has gone. It seems to me that Watari and Tatsumi were in a bit too much of a hurry to leave, but Akimiya lingered, wanting to be sure I was all right. I all but had to shove him and Rika out the door before I could have any privacy. 

    "All what?" Tsuzuki asks, finishing off the last of the cake. He takes a forkful of frosting and aims it at my mouth. 

    I open my lips obediently and nearly choke on the sweetness. I've never been fond of sweets as a general rule, though I've sort of had to adapt to them, living with Tsuzuki and all. "Tatsumi was lying to me." 

    He blinks at me with innocent purple eyes. "Tatsumi doesn't lie to people." 

    "Not generally, no." But he did now. The words hang in the air, unspoken. Like a wall between us. I hate it, but I force myself to speak the words. "And you know what the truth about this is, but you're not telling me." 

    For a minute I expect him to protest, to deny it. But after a second, he just hangs his head slightly. I think that may be worse. "I can't," he says softly. "I can't tell you yet, and neither can Tatsumi." 

    "Tsuzuki, what's wrong?" I know I shouldn't press him, but I can't help it. This is important, I know, but the really important thing is that it's something that separates us. I don't like not being able to touch him, afraid of what emotions might flood in. Even both our shields can't keep all of them out anymore. "Please tell me. Please trust me." 

    "It's not about trust," he says, staring steadfastly at the floor. 

    "Then what is it about?" 

    He looks up at me now, and there's an agony of indecision in his eyes. "Please," he says. "Please don't look at me like that. I would tell you if I could. I will tell you, as soon as I can." He reaches out and one hand caresses my cheek. Pain, fear, longing. "Please don't turn away from me for this. It isn't my choice." 

    "Idiot," I say softly, and lean forward to kiss his forehead. "I'll never turn away from you." 

    He pulls me into a hug. His relief and acceptance of this make me feel slightly better. But underneath it there's a tinge of something ugly. He's frightened. Not because I might turn away. He's not afraid of me – he's afraid for me. "You're scared," I state, the air from my words ruffling his hair, his head cradled against my chest. 

    "Yes," he says softly. 

    "Why? Or can you not tell me that either?" 

    His arms wrap around my waist, comforting, reassuring. "Not quite yet," he replies. Then he sits up. "It's going to be okay," he says, and there's such rock solid certainty in his eyes that I don't question anymore. Tsuzuki would never lie to me, and in any case, I would know if he was. He's positive that I'm going to be all right, so I want to be positive too. This doesn't mean I am, but I've always been more cynical than him. He has far more faith in me than I have in myself, but I suppose the same can be said the other way around. 

    "Okay," I say, knowing that he's waiting for a reply. A very sweet smile curves his lips, and then he leans forward to kiss me. He's no longer afraid. 

    I wish I could say the same for myself. 

~~~~ 

    I ignore Tatsumi's friendly advice to take a couple more days off, mostly because without working I get bored too easily. Especially when Tsuzuki is working. He's not on constant field duty yet; he bops around from job to job. Tatsumi only sends him out on cases that either need his expertise, or ones that he's sure Tsuzuki can handle. Usually Tsuzuki ends out with me and Akimiya, but sometimes he goes with Watari or the Gushoshin. He's the catch-all Shinigami; he does whatever is needed most. 

    Besides, Tatsumi's advice was all bullshit anyway. So I'll go into work. I'm still feeling slightly dazed, but the dizziness is gone for the most part. It's hard to focus. I hope we don't have any missions; I don't think I could handle anything but paperwork. 

    Tsuzuki and I had a restless night. His nightmares are infrequent now; he usually sleeps through the night without any, and even when he has them, he can wake himself up and it rarely disturbs me. But I was tossing and turning all night, and I know that must have made it hard to sleep for him. 

    It was right around three o'clock when I first realize what's really bothering me about this. The dizziness, the lack of ability to focus . . . it's the same as the beginning of Muraki's curse. I was vaguely sick for two and a half years, before I got very sick, before I died. But I know that's not what this is, or else the curse marks would be reacting. They're not. This isn't Muraki, whatever it is, or else Tatsumi and Tsuzuki wouldn't know about it. And if they did, I'm sure they would have told me. 

    No staff meeting. Good, that means no new cases. I'll have Akimiya brief me on what I missed while I was on vacation. Get a cup of coffee and a donut. Something feels vaguely wrong, but I don't really think about it (being half-awake) until I go into the office. "Did you forget to take your potion?" I ask, yawning. 

    Akimiya blinks at me. "No. Why do you ask?" 

    I frown at him. "Are you sure? My empathy is all wobbly. I thought maybe you didn't know that I was going to be back today." 

    "Of course I knew you were going to be back today," he says, looking bewildered. "I mean, that's why we had your party yesterday, because it was the last day of vacation. I distinctly remember taking it. I had to dump it in my orange juice because it tastes so vile." 

    I'm reduced to standing around like an idiot, staring at him. "You're really sure?" 

    "I really am. Are you okay?" 

    "I'm still feeling a little dizzy, but other than that I'm okay. Unless you count the fact that I have no empathy." 

    "So go see Watari or Tatsumi." 

    "Why, so I can have them tell me it's all part of a routine virus?" I ask, my voice suddenly bitter. Color me cynical. 

    He sighs slightly. "Do you know what's going on?" he finally asks, after a long pause. "Did you ask Tsuzuki?" 

    "I asked. He said he can't tell me yet, and to please not be upset." I slump into my chair. I'm very good at slumping. It's an acquired skill. 

    "Oh," Akimiya finally says. 

    "So you see why I don't want to go tell Tatsumi or Watari." 

    "Yes, I see. Let's just hope we don't get any assignments while you're like this." 

    I'm sure. 

~~~~ 

    So, as usual, the gods are laughing at me. You know, if I believe in any real gods, which I don't, they'd be getting a real kick out of this. Twenty minutes after Akimiya says that, of course Tatsumi walks into the office and hands us an assignment. I hate him. 

    "I don't think we can go," Akimiya says. "Hisoka still isn't feeling very well from that . . . virus." There's enough of a pause in Akimiya's sentence that Tatsumi knows damn well that he didn't believe the pretty little story. 

    Tatsumi looks at me, and I nod slightly. "My empathy is on the fritz," I admit. "I'm still a little dizzy and just generally feel like crap. I'm not sure going out on a mission is a good idea. Maybe Tsuzuki could go with Akimiya?" I don't like volunteering Tsuzuki for missions, but I'm not sure I see any other alternative here. 

    But Tatsumi is shaking his head. "He has a project with the Gushoshin," he replies. "He'll be busy." 

    "You can't ask him to go like this," Akimiya protests, which makes me feel like an invalid or something. 

    "I'll be fine," I snap. "Just give me the file." 

    Tatsumi gives me a slightly sympathetic look. I think there might be more behind it than that, but if so, I don't know what. "You won't have to leave until tomorrow. Maybe you'll be feeling better by then." 

    "I don't know," I reply coolly. "Maybe you can tell me how long this 'virus' usually lasts?" 

    Tatsumi sighs slightly. "It should be gone within a week," he says quietly, and I know he's telling the truth. Now if I only knew what caused it and how to get rid of it. And, you know, all the billion other things that no one is telling me. 

~~~~ 

    Tsuzuki is moping. Damn it, I hate it when Tsuzuki mopes. It gives me flashbacks to the earliest stages of our relationship. You know, that part when we were both being idiots and wouldn't talk to each other. That's over and done with now, and I'd prefer to keep it that way. But Tsuzuki just sits there at the kitchen table, staring into his mug of tea, moping. 

    This calls for strategically applied chocolate. 

    Unfortunately, he doesn't even look up as I put a plate of cookies down on the table. Okay, time to go to stage two, which is strategically applied me. 

    It does get his attention as I settle onto his lap and pull him in for a kiss. Then again, if it hadn't, I would've been quite insulted. He's a bit distracted, melancholy, upset. The emotions filter in through the touch. I can't quite read what he's thinking. He's not afraid, not really, but there's an edge of concern that I can feel. 

    Abruptly, he pulls away. And stares at me. 

    "What?" I ask. 

    "You were trying to read my mind." His voice is angry, but more upset. "You were using that to try to find out what's going on." 

    I don't whether or not I can protest. Or whether or not I should. The ethics of empathy have always been very tricky. "I wasn't kissing you just to find out how you felt," I say slowly. "That was just an added side benefit." 

    He continues to stare at me. "That wasn't fair," he says in a small voice. 

    I sigh explosively. "Tsuzuki, you know damn well that all I can get from you is how you feel, and that was all I wanted. You were moping and I wanted to make sure you were okay. And don't talk to me about fair, because it goes two ways. You know just as well how I feel as I know how you feel." 

    He looks at the floor. "You're angry with me," he says softly. 

    "I'm angry at whoever is planning this stupid conspiracy to get me killed!" I didn't mean to say that, and especially didn't mean to yell it like that. Sometimes I wish I had a time machine. Or at the very least, a rewind-erase button. 

    "You think I'm in on this?" Now he sounds wounded. 

    But I can't let it go. I meet his eyes, unflinching. "Are you?" 

    He tries to meet my gaze, but his eyes slide to the right as if there's something very interesting there. "It's not what you think," he mumbles. "No one's trying to get you killed." 

    "Then what are they trying to do? Tsuzuki, I can't go out on a mission like this. I'm dizzy and I'm tired and my empathy is going spastic. It's not even just dying, it's gone haywire. The only thing that hasn't been affected yet is my link with you. But they're making me go anyway, and why? Because you're doing some stupid research program with the Gushoshin? It wouldn't kill them to lose you for a few days." 

    "You're scaring me," Tsuzuki whispers. His voice is shaking. 

    "Good," I snap. "Because I'm scared too." 

    Tsuzuki looks down. Looks at the plate of cookies. Then he slowly walks out of the room, and suddenly I feel awful. There's nothing quite like getting in a fight with the one person you care about most to make you feel like total crap. I watch him go into the living room and sit down on the couch. 

    "Tsuzuki, I didn't mean that," I say, but he knows that I'm lying. An idiot would know I'm lying. He doesn't reply, and I'm not surprised. "I am scared, but . . . it's not your fault. I know it isn't your fault." 

    "And if it was?" He looks up at me with fear in his huge purple eyes. "What then?" 

    "Then I'd want to know why." My voice is shaking now. "Why all this is happening." I settle on the couch next to him, but I can't bring myself to look at him. My fists clench uselessly in my lap. "I'm scared, Tsuzuki. You know I'll never admit that to anyone but you, but I am. Something's really wrong." 

    His hand rests tentatively on the back of my neck, and when he can feel that I'm not angry anymore, he gently smoothes my hair. "It's going to be okay," he murmurs, and again there's that certainty in his voice. "I won't let anything happen to you." His hand tightens convulsively in my hair. "I won't let anyone hurt you." He's pulling, and it hurts. 

    His hand loosens. "I'm sorry," he says, his voice mortified. "I didn't mean to – " 

    I just look at him wearily. It strikes me as rather ironic that he hurt me while promising not to let anyone else. I suppose he's the only one who's really capable of hurting me, in the end. "I know," I say, and rest my head on his shoulder, allowing him to hold me. "Believe me, I know." 

    His concern bleeds into me, but it's tempered now by love and patience. He really won't let anyone hurt me, and I know it. He's still afraid, but it's no longer of what's going to happen to me. 

    It's of what's going to happen to us. 

~~~~ 

_Um.... wahahah?_


	3. Chapter Two

_Chapter two and already cliffhangers. Way to go, me._

Chapter Two 

    Sometimes I hate my job. I mean, I've always wondered what the qualifications for being a Shinigami really are. You'd think that they must screen pretty carefully (given the number of unresolved deaths in a year and the number of Shinigami) and look for certain attributes, but hell if I can figure out what any of them are. I mean, half the time we're detectives, and the other half it's brute magical force. 

    In three years I've improved a lot with my jitsu. I could never hold a candle to Tsuzuki or Tatsumi (or, for that matter, half of the human onmyoujitsu out there), but I can hold my own in a battle. And if I can't win, I can valiantly call for Tsuzuki's help. 

    When I was still partners with Tsuzuki, we shared responsibility fairly evenly, but when it came to fights, it was all him. Akimiya and I are the opposite. I have to do most of the fighting. In return, he does a lot of the sleuthing. Which is fine with me, because I don't like it anyway. 

    Akimiya, after all, isn't the most ethical of people when it comes to the fact that he's a yumemi. He's perfectly okay with going into someone's sleeping mind, extracting whatever information we need, and leaving again. He says that if they're guilty, they deserve it, and if they're not . . . well, it's not like it hurt them. 

    Of course, it gets more difficult when we're fighting a demon instead of a human, but that's another story all over again. 

    But I've gotten sidetracked. I don't mind the sleuthing and I don't mind the fighting. What I mind is these stupid undercover jobs. I hate being a student. Hate, hate, hate it. And I'm the only one young enough to do it, too. Not that this is the worst undercover job ever. (Akimiya still laughs his ass off whenever that stupid Goth club comes up. You know, conveniently ignoring the fact that he tried to kill me later that night. But, uh, that's another story all over again.) 

    What I hate most about being a student is sitting there, trying to pay attention. I know damn well that it doesn't matter, but if I screw up, I'll call attention to myself and potentially blow my cover. It's the most annoying thing ever. Fortunately, I've done it so many times at this point that I think I already know anything the teacher might be teaching. 

    Students at this school have been going missing. There's been four now, in the past two weeks, and people are panicking. Akimiya's job is to look through the newspaper articles and look for a common link. Mine is to sit around in the classroom, collect gossip, and do the same. Thus far, and it's the afternoon of our second day, we haven't had any luck. 

    Right. Did I mention that I hate going undercover? 

    I trudge out at the end of the day with all the other students, trudging along equally as dismal as I am, and go back to the hotel where I'm staying with Akimiya. It's really a pain in the ass to go back and forth between Chijou and the Meifu, though I've been doing a little more often recently. I don't like to be away from Tsuzuki that long. So sue me, okay? 

    But this time, given our parting, I think it may be best. 

    The parting in question was bittersweet. He was still afraid. I was still afraid, and a little bit angry, though not really at him. There were no harsh words spoken. Just a lack of the usual affectionate ones. Somehow I think that may be worse. 

    Akimiya hands me a folder of papers and a take-out container of fried rice. I start to eat while looking through the folders. "I've looked through all this already." 

    "I know," he says, with a slight sigh. "I was hoping you might see something new." 

    I mutter something uncharitable about the entire situation and start to leaf through the folder again. Reaching for the food with one hand, the folder slides right through my fingers, giving me a nasty paper cut on the way down. I swear vehemently and with great vocabulary before scooping the papers up and starting to suck on my finger. It hurts a ridiculous amount for such a tiny cut. 

    "What'd you do?" Akimiya asks, not sounding particularly interested. Poor guy probably just wants to go home to Rika, and he's stuck out here with me. Most likely because of me, though I'm damned if I can figure out why. 

    "Cut my finger on the folder," I reply absently, and display the finger in question. 

    There's a pause before Akimiya speaks again, and when he does, his voice is very soft. "Why is it still bleeding?" 

    I jerk to attention and stare at it. Sure enough, it's still bleeding. I think that no matter how long you're a Shinigami, the healing powers might never seem natural. When you cut yourself, you're always going to expect to bleed, which is why it didn't take me off guard at first. But now that I'm thinking about it, why the hell didn't the cut close instantly? 

    As we both stare at it, it slowly closes and heals. The skin is left unmarked. 

    I look up at Akimiya. "Do you have a knife?" 

    He nods silently and hands it over without question. He always carries one, the way I always carried a gun before I learned 'jitsu, and still do on particularly dangerous missions. Akimiya watches as I slice the palm of my hand open. Then we continue to sit in silence for the full ten minutes it takes to heal. 

    "Now what?" he asks, as I wipe the knife off on a napkin and hand it back. 

    "Now we go back to the Meifu," I say, standing up. "And Tatsumi will tell me what the hell is going on." 

    And come to think of it, I'll pick up my gun while I'm there. 

~~~~ 

    Naturally, Tatsumi isn't in his office. Neither is Konoe-Kachou. Everyone is doing a splendid job of avoiding us. Peachy. Akimiya gives me a nervous look, maybe because he sees that I'm swelling up with anger. I think he's afraid I might pop. He follows me down to Watari's office. I have a vague feeling he knows what's going on. Of course, he isn't there either. 

    "Oi, Rika-chan," Akimiya says, poking his head into the tiny office where she works. "Have you seen Watari? Or Tatsumi-san? Or anyone?" 

    Rika blinks up at us. "No, I haven't seen anyone for a bit," she says. "What are you two doing back here?" She's giving me a nervous look, like she too is afraid I'm going to explode. 

    "I'll explain later," Akimiya says. "You don't know where anyone is?" 

    "Well, Watari said he was going to Chijou to pick some stuff up," she says, and shrugs helplessly. "You know how Watari is. I don't know about Tatsumi-san." She pauses, then adds, "But I think Tsuzuki is in his office." 

    My eyes narrow and Akimiya gives me a nervous look as I turn and stalk out of the room. I hear his hasty, "Thanks, Rika-chan," before he follows me. "What are you going to do?" 

    "Let me see your knife again." 

    He stops dead and glares at me. "No." 

    "Fine." I keep walking. My anger carries me all the way to Tsuzuki's office. I have a feeling I'm going to regret this later, but right now I'm too angry and frightened to care. Tsuzuki looks up as I walk into his office without knocking. He looks neither surprised nor pleased to see me. 

    "You've stopped healing." 

    I stop short, my angry tirade cut short by a wave of even stronger fury. "You knew?" 

    He nods slowly. 

    "And let me guess. You couldn't tell me." 

    He nods again. "If I could have -- " 

    "That doesn't do me any good, damn it!" It feels good to yell, good to be angry instead of scared. "When are you going to start telling me? When it's too late? Why the hell is all this happening?!" 

    He shakes his head, stares down at his desk, says nothing. 

    "ANSWER ME!" 

    "It's not going to be too late!" His head snaps up and I see that his eyes are brimming with tears. "Nothing's going to happen to you, Hisoka! You're going to be fine, now please . . . please stop being so angry with me . . ." 

    "What do you want me to be, Tsuzuki?" I'm so furious that I don't even care that my anger must be burning the link between us. Burning him. "What am I supposed to do?" 

    "Just . . . finish the mission." His voice chokes. "You have to finish the assignment." 

    I grab him by the chin and force him to meet my eyes, ignoring the waves of misery traveling along the link. "Or else what?" 

    "I . . . can't . . ." 

    I let him go, let him fall bonelessly back into his chair. "How am I supposed to finish the assignment when I have no powers?" 

    He looks away, and it's just as well. There's an agony of indecision in his eyes. "I'm sorry," he whispers. 

    I snort. "You're always sorry," I snap. "But you're going to be apologizing to my dead body if nobody tells me what's going on." With that, I leave the office. I don't think I can bear to see his reaction to that statement. 

    Akimiya is waiting outside. "What -- " he begins. 

    I stop. So does he. Tatsumi is standing at the end of the hall, and even from this distance, I can tell that he's pissed. 

    There are few things on earth I'm more afraid of than a pissed off Tatsumi. 

    He walks forward slowly. I just stand there and wait. It'll just make it worse if I try to avoid it. 

    "Tsuzuki-san is upset," he says, his voice dangerously soft. It's easy to forget that Tatsumi has a touch of psychic ability, because he almost never uses it. It's only at times like this, when I really wish he doesn't have it, that I remember that he does. 

    "I'm a bit upset too," I say, my voice just as soft. 

    "What did you say to him?" His voice is curious, light in tone. If it weren't for my empathy, I'd probably never know he's ready to rip my throat out if I say the wrong thing. 

    The only answer I can give is the truth. "That if he didn't stop apologizing for not telling me things, he's going to be apologizing to my dead body." 

    Akimiya starts to slowly back away. Smart boy, Akimiya. 

    "I'll tell you only one thing, Kurosaki-kun," Tatsumi says gently. "And then I'll let you go. Believe me . . . this isn't any easier on him than it is on you. If you can't feel how terrified he is for you, you don't deserve to be a Shinigami." 

    I know I should back down and shut up, but I've never been known for listening to reason. "If he's terrified for me, he should tell me what's going on," I manage between clenched teeth. 

    "There's a very good reason why he can't," Tatsumi says. "And I know you don't believe me and I don't particularly care. If you truly loved him . . . you wouldn't be angry at him for this." 

    That stings. A lot. 

    "He's not the cause of this," Tatsumi continues. "Nor is he the solution. And even if he could tell you . . . it wouldn't help you any." 

    "And why can't you?" I challenge. "For the same reason?" 

    He nods, and for a second there's sorrow in his eyes. "For the exact same reason." 

    I believe him, and that just makes me more angry. "Tsuzuki keeps telling me he's not afraid. That he's sure I'm going to be all right." 

    Tatsumi shrugs. "Tsuzuki is accustomed to hiding how he really feels, even from you. If you think he can't manipulate empathy, you're wrong, and you should have known that for years by now." 

    "I do know it," I admit. "Or else I would have realized how serious the situation in Kyoto was long before it got that serious. I just didn't realize he was still doing it, or could do it to the link the blood bind had created." 

    "I doubt very much that he does it on purpose," Tatsumi says with another shrug. "But if he wants, badly enough, for you to not realize how afraid he is . . . he can lock all that fear in a part of him that even you can't get to." 

    "So why do you know about it?" I snap. 

    He suddenly looks very tired. "Because I've been through this before, with him," he says. "And I know how afraid for him that I was then." 

    A very subtle reminder that Tatsumi loves Tsuzuki almost as much as I do. And that he'll kick my ass if I continue to upset him like this. "All right," I say reluctantly. "Finish the assignment? That's all I have to do?" 

    He nods slightly. "That's all you have to do, Kurosaki-kun." His eyes glint suddenly. "Well, that and one other thing . . ." 

    I recognize the look in his eyes and nod, though I really don't want to do this. Then I walk back into Tsuzuki's office. He's still sitting at his desk, in almost the exact same position that I left him in. "Tsuzuki . . ." 

    He looks up. His eyes are dull. I still don't feel that much fear from him. He's hiding it extremely well, if what Tatsumi says is true. 

    "I'm sorry," I say. "I shouldn't have said any of that." 

    He smiles slightly. "Tatsumi made you come in and apologize, right?" 

    I close my eyes. "Yes," I admit. "But I was already sorry before he did." 

    "Why?" he asks softly. "You're right." He looks up and meets my eyes, somewhat steadier than he was earlier. "But there's nothing I can do about this, Hisoka." 

    "Tatsumi said you went through it yourself." 

    He nods slightly. 

    "If you did it, so can I," I say, and I'm almost confident. Stripped of our powers, Tsuzuki and I aren't so different. And I can keep my head in a crisis better than he can. I lean forward and kiss his cheek. "I will come home to you. I promise." 

    He manages a wan smile. "I'll be waiting." 

~~~~ 

    Akimiya settles onto the bed, and looks at me questioningly. "Should we go over the case?" 

    I rub my hands over my face. "I suppose we probably should." 

    He raises an eyebrow. "Not that case," he says immediately. "This one." He gestures at me, and I understand what he means. Try to solve the case of what's happening to me. Is that what Tsuzuki meant when he told me to finish the assignment? Or am I reading into it too deeply? 

    "Oh, sure," I say. "What the hell." 

    He sighs slightly, but doesn't blame me for my understandably cynical outlook on things. "Are you still having dizzy spells?" 

    "I haven't had any today or yesterday. I think they're gone." I pause, then add, "Maybe they're just the first signs of whatever this is." 

    "Okay, so, what's the problem now?" Akimiya asks. "Exactly." 

    "Exactly, the problem is that my empathy is out of whack. It's not gone, not like it was when you first showed up. Half the time it isn't there, and half the time it's too receptive and I can't get my shields to work. And I must be projecting. Have you noticed?" At his slight nod, I continue. I don't want to ask what I've been projecting. I just don't want to know. "And now my healing seems to be slowing down, and from the way Tsuzuki talked about it, it's going to stop entirely." 

    "What about your 'jitsu?" he asks. 

    A reasonable question. Why didn't I think of that? "I don't know," I say. "You'd better let me check." 

    He raises an eyebrow at me again. "What are you going to do, banish a demon that isn't here?" 

    I give him a dirty look. "No, you moron. I'm going to put wards up around the room." 

    He smiles slightly. "I was kidding, Hisoka." 

    "Uh huh. Sure you were." 

    "I was!" 

    I take out two ofuda and walk over to the doorway, place them at the edges. Akimiya watches in idle curiosity as I fold my hands into prayer position and say the incantation. Nothing happens. I try again. Still nothing. 

    Splendid. 

    "Akimiya, get over here and do this to make sure my ofuda aren't damaged," I snap. I know I'm being a demanding jerk, but I think I have the right to be a little irritated. Not that it matters much in the long run. 

    Akimiya walks over and folds his hands. He stumbles slightly over the words -- he really needs to work some on his 'jitsu, but he just doesn't have a natural talent for it at all -- and the wards flare up in the doorway. 

    Excellent. 

    I glare at them and try to dispel them. Even that doesn't work. Akimiya sighs, dispels them himself, then picks up the ofuda and hands them back. "Don't glare at me," he says defensively. "It's not my fault." 

    "I know," I admit, and plunk down onto my bed. "You're the only person I'm not irritated with." 

    "Good to know," he says with a nod. "So you have messed up empathy, no 'jitsu, and failing healing powers. Can you still fly?" 

    "If I can't, I don't want to find out the hard way." 

    He laughs slightly. "So basically, all your powers are going dead. Uh, for lack of a better term. Is there anything that isn't affected?" 

    I ponder that. "Yes," I say slowly. "My empathic link with Tsuzuki is still functioning normally. But that might be because the blood bind goes deeper than whatever this is." 

    "It's weird that your empathy isn't gone," Akimiya says thoughtfully. "But correct me if I'm wrong -- out of all the things that are going, that's the only one that you had before you became a Shinigami, right?" 

    I nod. "Right." 

    "That might have something to do with it." He pinches his lower lip thoughtfully. "When did this start?" 

    "The first dizzy fit I had was at the wedding." 

    He blinks at me. "That early?" 

    I nod. "I didn't bother mentioning it to anyone, not even to Tsuzuki. I just figured I'd had a little bit too much champagne." 

    He frowns at me. "But you were barely drinking." 

    "Well, I know, but it was the best explanation I could come up with at the time." I sound a bit defensive. In retrospect, I wish I had realized earlier that it had something to do with this, but what good would it have done me? 

    "Who else knows about this?" 

    "Knows about me being dizzy, or knows what's going on?" I ask. "I think it got around the whole office that I hadn't been feeling very well. Tsuzuki and Tatsumi obviously know what's up, and I think Watari does too, but I couldn't swear to that. My empathy's been weird and I haven't been around him very much." 

    "So, all Shinigami that have been around longer than you." 

    "Well, yeah. You're the only one who hasn't been. There haven't been any new Shinigami since you, at least, not in our department. There hasn't been a need for them." 

    "And the first day it got really bad was at your birthday party." 

    "Yeah." 

    There's a long moment of silence. Finally, he shrugs helplessly. "I'm stumped," he admits. "Everything that makes you a Shinigami seems to be disappearing, but hell if I can figure out why." 

    I nod slowly, thoughtfully. "Because it's not my empathy itself that's going -- it's my control over it. That's something I got when I became a Shinigami. The empathy itself is inherent to who I am, so they can't take that away from me." 

    "They?" Akimiya asks quietly. 

    I shrug. "I don't know. But there must be a they. Unless you think this is all one big coincidence." I consider further. "And it's happened before. Tatsumi mentioned that it had happened to Tsuzuki. Hell, maybe it is just a virus and I'm just overreacting." I wish that were the case, but I know it isn't. Not from how uneasy Tsuzuki has been over it. 

    Akimiya is shaking his head too. "I wish you knew when it had happened to Tsuzuki." 

    "I don't know, but I think it was a while ago," I say thoughtfully. 

    He sighs. "This is getting us nowhere. Should we work on the other case for a little while? At least if we can solve it, we can go home. Maybe it'll be easier once we're back in the Meifu." 

    "And you want to see Rika," I say with a slight smile. 

    He blushes, which is fairly satisfying because he doesn't often blush. "Oh, shut up." 

~~~~ 

    It takes two days and another disappeared child before we have a definitive lead on the case. By that time, my healing ability has stopped completely. (Which I know thanks to the horrific bruise I have on my knuckles from when I punched the wall out of frustration. I suppose I'm lucky I didn't break my fingers.) 

    It's not a demon. From what we can tell, it's a group of people worshipping a demon, sacrificing the children to it. I don't give much for their welfare. 

    "You do realize the easiest way to do this, right?" I ask wearily. 

    Akimiya shakes his head. "You can't play bait. You can't heal. If they sacrificed you, that'd be it." 

    I smile at him slightly. "Then you'd just better make sure you get there in time, ne?" 

    He doesn't like it (neither do I), but neither of us see a better option, so we get right to it. I can't just wait around for them to pick me, so I have to draw their attention to me somehow. Not quite sure how to do that when I don't have any magic of my own at the moment. But from what I can tell, they have a scout at the school, so if my empathy will just even out for a day so I can figure out who it is, I'll be golden. 

    But fate apparently decides to take it easy on me, since I'm having since a rough time, and has them pick me out anyway. I should be happy about this, right? Right. Maybe if I weren't on the way to my doom. 

    I recognized the compulsion spell, even as it was being put on me, but without any 'jitsu there was no way I could fight against it. Pretty handy way of kidnapping people, really. No struggle, no ropes or gags or blindfolds. Just a few muttered words and they'll do whatever you tell them. 

    Right. 

    Akimiya is following us, silently and invisibly. I can feel his presence flickering in and out as my empathy does the same. 

    The man who's leading me along stops at a street corner. I'm guessing the entrance to their . . . lair? God, that word is stupid . . . is around here somewhere. 

    "Stay here," he tells me firmly, and I nod vaguely. I couldn't move if I wanted to. He disappears into a building. 

    "Akimiya," I say through clenched teeth. "Get this damned spell off me." 

    It takes him a couple tries, but he does manage it. Now I'll just pretend to be obeying, and then . . . well, I'm sure I'll think of something. 

    Footsteps. A new voice. Long white coat and silver hair. 

    "Hello, boy." 

    Maybe I won't think of something after all. 

~~~~ 


	4. Chapter Three

_All the information about EnmaDaiOh, I got from TK. So blame her if you think it's inaccurate. ^^;;_ Chapter Three 

    Well, offhand I'd say this definitely qualifies as bad. Facing Muraki with no powers would be bad enough under normal circumstances, but given how pissed off he is at me for how I stole Tsuzuki back from him, I'm inclined to say that this just can't go well. However, I can at least keep my cool. He doesn't know I don't have any powers, after all. Not that my having powers usually does me a damn bit of good against Muraki anyway, but I can dream. 

    So I just nod slightly at him. Must never forget that last time we fought, I won. Not that this is necessarily a good thing. "Hello, Muraki. Are you behind this?" No, that's not possible. Nobody would send me up against Muraki in this condition, at least, not intentionally. 

    "No," he says, confirming my theory. "I just dropped by to see you." He smiles. Damn do I ever hate it when he smiles. My hands are starting to shake, so I clasp them behind my back, trying to look nonchalant. Akimiya is just standing there. In truth, I think Akimiya may be just as afraid of him as I am. "You seem to be having a bit of trouble, boy." 

    So he does know. Damn damn damn. "I don't imagine you have anything to do with that, do you?" 

    He chuckles slightly. "You have a suspicious nature. Are you sure this is the best place to be having this conversation? Your . . . companion . . . will be returning for you shortly." 

    Right, the question of the day: Should I have a friendly chat with Muraki which will probably end in him kicking my ass, or should I have a friendly chat with a group of demon-worshippers, which will probably end up in me getting sacrificed. Decisions, decisions. The demon will eat me quickly, I suppose. But with Muraki there's a greater chance that I'll come out alive, because he's very big on torture. Okay, so would I rather die or be tortured? This is getting too complicated, and I have a headache. 

    Muraki takes the decision away from me. How kind of him. He just takes hold of my arm and then there's a swirl of white mist around us. Damn it, I knew that he could teleport, but I didn't know he could teleport other people with him. I suppose I should have remembered that, since he transported Tsuzuki out of the Meifu that one time. This is not good. I don't even know where we are, except that it's dark. 

    "I've been meaning to have a little talk with you," he says, still smiling that damned smile. 

    "I'm sure you have." With Muraki, that's synonymous to a lot of pain. This is not going to be pretty. Please, please, don't let him have realized that I can't heal. "So can we get it over with? It took me a week to get picked by those assholes, and now I'm going to have to go back to square one and start over." That's it, Hisoka. Go with that bravado. I'm sure it'll help. 

    He moves a step closer. "You don't seem afraid of me anymore." 

    "I'm not." Okay, so that's a bald-faced lie. But it's better than the truth, which is that I'm going to start hyperventilating in about thirty seconds. "After all, we already discussed the fact that you won't kill me." 

    "Maybe, maybe not," he says. "But I'll admit that I'm getting a little sick of you. Had you considered that I might have changed my mind?" 

    "It had occurred to me." Keep my voice light, casual. I can talk my way out of this. Please, please, please let me talk my way out of this. Or at least talk my way alive until someone comes to rescue me. You'd think with the sheer panic I must be feeling, Tsuzuki would have come to rescue me by now. 

    Unless he's mad at me. 

    Right. Must not have nervous breakdown in front of Muraki. That would be all types of bad. 

    "I must admit," Muraki says, still advancing on me, "I've underestimated you. You're more stubborn than I had expected, and I don't know how to break you and Tsuzuki-san apart." He pauses, as if to let that sink in. "There must be a way. I simply haven't found it yet." 

    I don't say anything. I just back up, away from him, until I find myself with my back against the wall and no way to move. 

    "But with what's been happening now . . ." He smiles. "This is perfect. I kill you, and Tsuzuki will blame himself for it. Because he wouldn't tell you how to deal with this mysterious loss of power." 

    "How the hell do you know that?" I burst out. This is ridiculous. The worst thing about it is that he's right. He could kill me right now, and Tsuzuki will blame no one more than himself. 

    Muraki clears his throat. "You must have noticed that you're losing your control over your empathy. I may not have much ability, but when someone is projecting that loudly . . ." 

    Damn damn damn. He's got me trapped against the wall, and he's still advancing. I don't know how to fight him. I don't know if there's any way that I can. 

    "Of course, I half-expected that he would come to rescue you," Muraki adds, and I try to avoid flinching and can't. "But if he isn't here now . . . I suppose he isn't coming." He still smiles. "He may hate me for it, but he'll hate himself far more . . . and that makes it relatively easy for me, don't you think?" He reaches up with one hand and caresses the side of my face. I can't hold back the shudder. 

    Okay. Time to stop stalling and do something. Anything. There must be something I can do. 

    But I can never think while Muraki's around. Especially not while he's touching me, while that twistedness is seeping inside my skin. The first time I met him (as a Shinigami, I mean), I couldn't understand him. He was so twisted, but I couldn't figure out why. I still can't. The darkness inside him must have a cause, but I doubt I'll ever know what it is. 

    My body seems to have frozen with shock. Even with my magic, there's no way I can fight Muraki. Without it? It doesn't even seem to matter. 

    Close my eyes as his lips touch mine and try to struggle, try desperately, trying to free myself from his grasp. He's too strong. And I'm too small. I always will be. Unless, of course, I die now, in which case I'll just be nothing. What happens when a Shinigami dies? Do they go on to whatever destination they would have originally been sent to? Do their years as a Shinigami have some effect? Or do they just dissolve into nothingness? 

    I suppose I'll find out in a few minutes. 

    "Let him go." 

    Relief washes over me, stronger than almost any other emotion I've ever felt. But Muraki doesn't let me go. He's holding me suspended over the ground, my feet dangling slightly. His hand around my throat. Muraki turns slightly, towards Tsuzuki's voice. "We were beginning to think you weren't coming, Tsuzuki-san." 

    Tsuzuki's face is blank and his voice calm, but there's panic in his mind. "You obviously don't know me very well, in that case." 

    Muraki smiles at him. "He thought you weren't coming either." 

    Tsuzuki's eyes flick to me, and there's pain hidden in them. Hidden very well, but still there. "I'm sure he had his reasons." 

    My breath is still coming in sharp, short gasps, but I'm starting to calm slightly. Really wishing right about now that Muraki would put me down. Yeah, that'd be nice. 

    "Let him go," Tsuzuki repeats, his voice cold. 

    Muraki slowly lowers me to the ground. I have to brace myself against the wall to keep from falling. I'm shaking all over. "Whatever you wish, Tsuzuki-san." 

    And with that, he's gone. And so are we. We're standing back on the street corner where I started. Akimiya, looking panicky, nearly falls over. "What the hell was that all about?" 

    "Muraki tried to kill me." It's a fight to keep my voice steady, but in the end, it sounds like I'm discussing something totally normal. Which I suppose it is. I mean, Muraki does try to kill me on a pretty regular basis. "But Tsuzuki came and rescued me." 

    We both look at Tsuzuki. For some reason, he doesn't look pleased at what happened. In fact, his eyes are wide and shocked in his face, which is so pale it's nearly dead white. "What's wrong?" I ask him, alarmed. 

    He shakes his head slightly. ". . . have to go back," is about all he can manage. 

    "To the Meifu?" I ask. At his nod, I glance at Akimiya. 

    He shrugs wearily. "The man you were with came and went. But at least we know their hideout now. We can come back later." 

    I nod, and as one, we all transport back. It snaps into place as soon as we get there. My empathy smooths out and the pain in my knuckles vanishes. The fog that's been hanging over the world evaporates. I know without trying that my 'jitsu has come back too. Well, well, just another mystery. 

    Tatsumi is waiting for us when we enter the office. Much to my surprise, Tsuzuki goes even paler and practically falls to pieces. "I'm sorry," he mumbles, looking anywhere but at me or Tatsumi. "I know I wasn't supposed to, but Muraki . . . Muraki was . . . going to . . ." 

    Tatsumi puts a hand on his shoulder and shakes his head slightly. Tsuzuki falls silent. 

    "What the hell is going on?" That's it, I'm officially sick of being out of the loop. 

    "Follow me," Tatsumi says, and beckons me and Tsuzuki. Akimiya starts to follow, and Tatsumi glances at him. And then says the one thing guaranteed to get rid of him without question. "Ah, Sakamoto-san, Nanami-san was looking for you. She said to go talk to her once you got back." 

    "She was?" Akimiya looks slightly surprised, then nods. "All right." He puts his hand briefly on my shoulder, then hurries off. Sometimes I forget how devious Tatsumi can be. 

    We follow him to his office, where he gestures for us both to sit down. "I have to go see about something," he says. "Tsuzuki-san, why don't you explain things to him?" 

    Tsuzuki gives him a startled look. "I can?" 

    Tatsumi looks a bit pained. "It's a little late for prevarication now, and I don't think he's going to take no for an answer anymore." 

    "Oh." Tsuzuki looks at his hands as Tatsumi leaves the room. 

    I just look at him. 

    Tsuzuki takes a deep breath. "Before you ask, Tatsumi wasn't really lying about it being a virus. This is something that happens to every Shinigami after they've been one for three years. It's like . . . like a test. To see if they can complete a mission without all the gifts they've been given, to see if they're really capable of the job." 

    I nod slightly. I was starting to figure that out. 

    "The tests aren't hard. At least, they're not supposed to be. I mean, Muraki wasn't supposed to show up." He laughs slightly. "That . . . that wasn't in the plan." 

    I nod again. I can tell how frightened he was when that happened. So why did it take him so long to come help me? 

    "Other Shinigami are . . . are forbidden to tell the person being tested what's happening to them," he says softly. "And they're also forbidden to help them through the test." 

    Oh. 

    Tsuzuki rubs his hands across his face. "I . . . I don't know what's going to happen now. I shouldn't have gone to help you, but . . ." 

    "But you said Muraki wasn't part of the test," I remind him. "So theoretically, it shouldn't matter that you came to help me." 

    "I guess." He looks away. 

    "Why do I have my powers back?" I ask quietly. 

    He blinks at me, then looks stricken. He has to swallow hard before he can answer. "Because the test has been completed." 

    I stare at him. "But I didn't finish the case." 

    "I know." He presses both his hands against his face. 

    "I would have finished!" My voice is rising with panic. "I would have if Muraki hadn't showed up!" 

    "I know!" he repeats. He sounds like he's about to cry. 

    "It wasn't my fault," I whisper. 

    The door opens again and Tatsumi walks in. He doesn't look very pleased with the situation. Tsuzuki and I just stare at him. "Well?" Tsuzuki finally asks. 

    Tatsumi clears his throat. "The decision," he says, his voice completely calm, "has been left to EnmaDaiOh." 

    Tsuzuki goes even paler, which I wouldn't have thought possible. "Tatsumi," he says weakly, "you know what he'll say." 

    I don't. But at this point I'm beginning to think that's a good thing. 

    "He'll have his decision within the hour," Tatsumi said. His voice isn't quite as calm now. "Tsuzuki-san . . ." He walks over so they're eye to eye. "Tsuzuki-san . . . I . . ." 

    Oh God. He's going to tell him that he loves him. That means that whatever's happening, it's very, very bad. 

    "Shh," Tsuzuki says, and folds him into a hug. "I know. I know." 

    Which is pretty surprising, because Tatsumi and I were both of the opinion that Tsuzuki didn't know. But I suppose now is not the time to be questioning these things. I want to know what the hell is going on. 

    Tsuzuki lets him go. "An hour?" he asks softly. 

    Tatsumi nods, and then leans forward to kiss Tsuzuki's forehead. Without another word, he turns and walks out of the room. 

    "What -- " I begin. 

    Tsuzuki turns to me. "We have to go." 

    "Go? Where? Why?" I'm floundering here, I know I am. 

    "EnmaDaiOh is going to judge that you failed the test," Tsuzuki says, his voice tense. "And he's going to be annoyed that I broke the rules and helped you, but he's not going to punish me much. But he'll send you on." 

    "What? He can't!" 

    "Yes, he can, and he will," Tsuzuki snaps. I don't blame him for snapping. "EnmaDaiOh believes that being a Shinigami is penance for me. Penance for . . . for something that I did when I was alive." He swallows hard. "I doubt he's pleased to see me settling down and finally being happy with myself, so he's going to send you where we can't be together anymore. This was just his excuse, and I walked right into it without realizing." 

    "But . . ." 

    "Hisoka," Tsuzuki says, his voice gentle, "we have to go." 

    "Go where?" I whisper. 

    "I don't know," he says. "We'll have to figure it out on the way. We have a little time to stop by home and grab a few things, but that's going to be it." 

    "But . . . but Akimiya and Tatsumi and everyone . . ." 

    "Will have to do without us," he says firmly, and takes me hand. He doesn't allow me any breath to protest as he pulls me along firmly, right out of the building and down the street. We're back at the house in record time. 

    He grabs a suitcase and hands it to me. "Pack," he says firmly. 

    "This is all my fault," I whisper. 

    He stops dead. "What?" 

    "We . . . we have to leave everything . . . because I couldn't fight Muraki." I think I'm going into shock. I can't move. I can't think. 

    "We don't have time for this, Hisoka!" Tsuzuki's voice is frustrated, and close to tears. 

    "But it isn't fair!" I protest. 

    "Of course it isn't fair!" He just stands there and we stare at each other. "None of this is fair! It shouldn't be judged that you failed because Muraki wasn't part of the test and you never got a chance to prove yourself, and if you're going to be sent on for that, I should be sent on for breaking the rules and helping you. But EnmaDaiOh doesn't care about being fair." 

    "He just cares about you being miserable." 

    "As far as I can tell." 

    "Tsuzuki . . ." I slump down onto the bed. "We don't have any money. We don't have any way of making money." I manage a wan smile. "Are you prepared to go the rest of eternity without any dessert?" 

    He starts to pick up clothes and shove them into a suitcase. He doesn't answer. 

    "And . . . and we'll have to give up everything. Tatsumi and Akimiya and Rika and Watari . . . I know that . . . that I'm screwed either way, but don't do this to yourself. If you run away, it'll only make things worse. Let's . . . let's just . . ." 

    "No!" His voice is fierce. He takes my chin in his hand and makes me look at him. "No," he repeats, softer this time. "I would give up everything in order to stay with you, Hisoka. And if that's what it takes, that's what I'll do." 

    I just stare at him. "Why?" 

    "Because I love you, you idiot," he snaps, and goes back to packing. 

    I automatically go to help, running on autopilot, snatching up the most important things -- the framed picture of Akimiya and Rika at their wedding, the little crystal vase Tatsumi gave us as a wedding present. Things to help us remember. Anything to help us remember. 

    It takes us fifteen minutes to cram our most important belongings into a suitcase. "Now what?" I ask weakly. "We can go to Chijou, but they'll look for us. Tatsumi told me once that if a Shinigami refutes his position, they're hunted down and killed." 

    "I won't let them hurt you," Tsuzuki says, wrapping his arms around my shoulders. The world blurs around us and deposits us on a street corner in Tokyo. It's started to rain, and the water trickles down my shirt collar. I shiver involuntarily. 

    "Will I be able to keep my powers?" I ask, as we walk along through the rain. 

    He nods slightly. "It works on a timer, really. A Shinigami's powers can't just be taken away by someone else. It happens automatically. So now that the test is over, they can't be taken away again." He reaches out and clasps my hand as we walk along. "I've got a little pocket money. You?" 

    I shake my head. "You know me. I never spend it." 

    He wilts. "I thought maybe, since you were on a mission . . ." 

    "I wasn't thinking of stuff like that, really," I admit. We walk in silence for a few minutes before I can get up the courage to ask. "Are you mad at me?" 

    He gives my hand a reassuring squeeze. "Why would I be mad at you?" 

    "Because . . . because I got so angry with you, for something that wasn't your fault," I manage. "That wasn't fair of me." 

    He shrugs. "I would've been just as angry. In fact, as far as I can recall, I was just as angry, when it happened to me. We all are." He pauses, then adds, "I don't know what's going to happen to Akimiya. I mean, when it starts to happen to him in a couple years, he's already going to know something suspicious is going on." 

    "Hasn't that happened before?" Keep the conversation on unimportant topics, and maybe I won't panic. Yeah, right. 

    "Not that I know of," Tsuzuki replies. "Because usually whoever it's happening to is the youngest Shinigami in the department. We rarely get two new Shinigami in as close a time as you and Akimiya." He blinks at the ground. I know he's thinking that Akimiya is his fault, because we wouldn't have needed another if he'd been able to take field duty. Then again, Akimiya's made a pretty good Shinigami, so I don't know what he's so depressed about. 

    "So usually, everyone knows what's happening except the person being tested." I suppose that makes sense. I still think it's unfair, though. I mean, what kind of a test is that? They give us the powers so we'll be able to do our job. How are we expected to do our job without them? But if so many people have passed, I guess I just must be defective or something. 

    "Hey," Tsuzuki says softly, and comes to a halt, turning to face me. "Stop that." He reaches out and brushes my wet hair out of my face. 

    You know, usually I'm grateful for the bond between us, but right now when I'm trying to agonize in peace, it's a real pain in the ass. "Why?" I ask, and keep walking. "I got us both into this." 

    "It wasn't your fault," he says, sounding much more patient than I think I would sound, if our positions were reversed. 

    "Why not?" I ask irritably. "I could have just kneed Muraki in the balls. But no, I had to freeze up and you had to come rescue me and now we're both screwed." 

    "Hisoka," Tsuzuki says, "you had every reason to freeze up around Muraki." 

    "Why, because I always do?" I kick angrily at a puddle. Tsuzuki, even with his longer legs, is having a hard time keeping up with me. "Yeah, right. One would think I would've had the sense to work on that by now." 

    "You didn't last time," he reminds me. 

    "Right. So why did I this time?" 

    He grabs me by the shoulders and makes me stop, giving an exasperated sigh. "Hisoka, you're contradicting yourself. First you always freeze up and that makes it worse, now you didn't freeze up last time and that makes it worse. Will you make up your mind?" 

    I glare at him angrily. "I shouldn't be afraid of Muraki anymore." 

    "Oh, sure," Tsuzuki retorts. "After all, he was only going to torture and kill you. Nothing to be afraid of there." 

    I look away. There's not much I can say to that, so I change the subject. "He just doesn't get it," I mumble, annoyed. "He keeps thinking there's some way that he'll convince you to be his. I wish I could just beat his stupid head into a wall until he understood." 

    Tsuzuki's lips twitch. I think he's about to start laughing. "Come on, let's go," he says, and puts his arm around my shoulder. The rain has grown harder. The streets are nearly deserted now, even though it's midday. 

    "We still don't have a place to go," I point out. 

    "We'll think of something." 

    We walk in silence, through the pouring rain. 

    "Look at it this way," Tsuzuki says, and I can't help but roll my eyes, "at least we don't have to do EnmaCho's dirty work anymore." 

    I sigh. "You can look at it as freedom if you want, Tsuzuki." If that will help, go right ahead. But I can't. And I can't stop blaming myself for it, either. 

    He gives me a pointed look. "Better than how you're thinking about it." 

    "What, the truth?" I snap. "That we're stranded here with no way to survive, and eventually we'll be hunted down and killed?" 

    He sighs. "Come on." 

    I continue to walk beside him. "We need someone to stay with for a few days, until we come up with a plan," I say. "Someone that people outside our department won't think of. I mean, no one there will betray us. Don't we have any friends here, damn it?" 

    He brightens slightly. "I know just the place," he says, and begins to skip along, leaving me behind in the rain. 

~~~~ 


	5. Chapter Four

_Warnings for the fact that I'm totally bs-ing both Tsuzuki's past and Oriya's personality. Way to go, me._

Chapter Four 

    I follow Tsuzuki along obediently, not having any clue where he's going anyway. He stops at a large apartment building that I've sure never seen and beckons me into the elevator. "Go ahead," he says, once we're facing one of the doors. "Ring the bell." 

    I give him a suspicious look and ring it. There's a thud from inside the apartment, and then the door swings open. I feel like I've been punched in the stomach. 

    The last time I saw Minase Hijiri, we were both sixteen. Looking at him was like looking in a mirror, so much so that people were questioning if we were twins that had somehow gotten separated at birth. 

    Now he's nineteen, and looking at him I see the man I would've grown into. He's taller -- he's even taller than Tsuzuki, though only by about an inch. He was thin before, and is still slender now, but he looks more graceful. Not so much of a gangly teenager. He's grown his hair out longer, too. It sweeps forward around his chin, tapering to a point in the back. His eyes are the only thing that are the same, that vibrant, liquid green. 

    Now they widen in surprise and happiness. "Tsuzuki!" He blinks at both of us. If looking at him is weird for me, it's probably equally weird for him to see me. "Hisoka, too . . . come on in!" 

    He ushers us inside. "I never expected to see you again," he says, closing the door behind us. "At least, not while I was still alive. I mean, I figured I would after I was dead. You two look just the same." 

    I flinch. Tsuzuki sees my look and also flinches. Hijiri sees us both flinching and . . . yes, you guessed it. He flinches. 

    "Sorry," he apologizes hastily. "I guess that was sort of thoughtless." He gestures for us to sit down on the couch. "Can I get you anything? Tea?" He grins suddenly. "I just bought a box of cookies . . . they aren't homemade, but they're still good." 

    "Cookies?" Tsuzuki perks up immeasurably. 

    Hijiri laughs. "I'll be right back." He walks into the kitchen. He's different now. He was arrogant then, but he isn't anymore. He's just confident, and he wears it like another outfit. It suits him. Would I have turned out that way? I somewhat doubt it. 

    "Of course," he mentions, walking back in with a tray of tea and cookies, "I could always make curry. Ne, Tsuzuki?" 

    Tsuzuki laughs, and reaches for the cookies. I've never seen anyone go through sweets the way he does. Honestly. Hijiri pours us both tea. "So what have you been up to?" Tsuzuki asks him. 

    Hijiri brightens and begins to tell us. So far, he doesn't ask any questions about why we're here or what's going on, for which I'm profoundly grateful. He's pretty perceptive, all things considered. I didn't know Tsuzuki had been keeping track of him, but I guess he must do that to anyone he cares about. 

    Turns out our boy Hijiri has gotten himself pretty famous. I knew he was good, but apparently he's just as good as I thought he was. Only nineteen years old and already being advertised as one of Japan's best violinists. Ever. Not a bad reputation to have. 

    Tsuzuki asks if he's seeing anyone, and Hijiri says no. Damn it all. Must resist the urge to say, 'well, we're married so you can't have him.' 

    "So how are you two doing?" Hijiri asks, shifting in his armchair and pouring himself more tea. 

    "We're doing good," Tsuzuki says, lying through his teeth. 

    Hijiri doesn't believe him, which I find rather funny. He glances at Tsuzuki as he reaches for another cookie, and his eyes land on the ring. I don't bother to hide mine, watching in amusement as Hijiri's eyebrows crawl up his forehead. "So you two are married, ne?" 

    Tsuzuki nearly chokes on his cookie. I pat him on the back. "Yes," I say, taking his hand and scowling at Hijiri. 

    He nods in what looks like satisfaction. "Good. I was wondering if you two idiots would ever realize you were head over heels for each other." 

    Now it's my turn to choke. I nearly spray tea all over him. "You knew?" That early? When we met Hijiri, I'd only been a Shinigami for four months. I couldn't have been in love with Tsuzuki then, could I have? At least . . . not that obviously! 

    Hijiri rolls his eyes. It's funny how I didn't notice at first, but he still has the cat's pupil in one. "Of course I knew. And if you ask me, so did everyone who came within a fifty-foot radius of you two." 

    "Then why were flirting with Tsuzuki?" I demand. Tsuzuki chokes again. Hijiri actually starts to snicker. 

    He grins at me, unremorseful. "Because I thought if I made you jealous enough, maybe you'd do something about it," he tells me. "Or at least slip up long enough for Tsuzuki to realize that you returned his feelings and do something about it himself." 

    Tsuzuki and I stare at him. 

    "So how long did it take you?" he asks, settling more comfortably into his armchair. 

    "Well, we just got married a few weeks ago," Tsuzuki says. 

    Hijiri nearly falls out of his chair. "It took you almost three years?!" 

    "No," Tsuzuki says defensively. "We'd been living together for nearly a year before that." 

    He gives us a look through narrowed eyes. "Well, that's better, I guess," he says. "But what the hell took you so long?" 

    "Extenuating circumstances," I say, and glare back. 

    It seems like we're going to sit there and glare at each other for eternity while Tsuzuki plows through the cookies, until Hijiri starts to laugh again. "Well, as long as you're happy together now." 

    "We are," Tsuzuki says firmly, and takes my hand. Wonderful, now I'm blushing. The cookies are entirely gone. Hijiri and I ate about one apiece. 

    "So what brings you here?" Hijiri asks, leaning back with his tea. Ah, the fun part of the conversation. 

    "Well," Tsuzuki says, stretching this out into several syllables, "we were wondering if we could ask a favor." 

    "Sure," Hijiri says immediately. "Name it." And I know he means it. He would honestly do anything for us, especially for Tsuzuki. 

    "It's not much," Tsuzuki says. "Just . . . we need a place to stay for a night or two." 

    Hijiri nods. "I've got a guest room. It's not much, but . . ." He smirks suddenly. "Since one bed is all right, you'll both fit." And now he gets to see me blush even redder. Excellent. "But do you mind if I ask why?" 

    Tsuzuki glances at me, as if requesting permission to explain, and I nod slightly. So Tsuzuki starts to explain the whole entire mess, which takes quite a while because he has to give some back story on Muraki before any of it will make sense anyway. It takes him a little over a half an hour to give enough information to satisfy Hijiri. 

    "So you're here because they won't think to look for you here?" he confirms at the end of it. 

    Tsuzuki nods. "Tatsumi and Watari know about you, but they won't tell anyone." 

    "Okay." Hijiri changes the subject, engages us in small talk, which I'm grateful for. It means I don't have to think anymore. 

~~~~ 

    It's late before we finally crawl into bed. Tsuzuki and I have opposite kinds of insomnia. When we're stressed, neither of us can sleep. I just don't fall asleep at all. He, on the other hand, conks out immediately. But then he wakes up really early and can't fall back to sleep. It's no fun whichever way you choose. 

    So he's snoozing beside me and I'm just curled up in his arms, trying desperately to stop thinking long enough to lose consciousness. 

    When it finally works, I'm immediately drawn into dreams. But not a regular dream. One of those dreams where I'm standing in the middle of nothingness, looking around and trying to figure out what the hell is going on. 

    I figure it out pretty quickly when Akimiya appears next to me. "Yo," he says, nonchalant, as if nothing is wrong. 

    Blink at him. Let's hear it for brainpower. "Hi," I manage. 

    "Where the hell are you?" he asks, beginning to sound irritated. "All Tatsumi-san would tell me was that you were gone. Tsuzuki too." 

    "You want the whole story?" Quite frankly, I don't care about breaking the rules anymore. Akimiya deserves an explanation, and knowing that it would piss off the higher-ups is giving me a small amount of satisfaction. At his nod, I continue. I tell him about the test and EnmaDaiOh's decision about Tsuzuki. He listens to all this in silence. 

    "Wow," he finally says. "That sucks." 

    "Yeah, thanks, Einstein." 

    "So what are you going to do?" he asks, settling comfortably on a chair that conveniently appears behind him. Sometimes I forget how weird it is to be in a dream with Akimiya, who just casually warps the surroundings to suit him. He explained to me once that if he's controlling the dream, everything works on a physical basis. Thoughts and feelings can be represented in a metaphorical form. Must be handy. 

    "Hell if I know." I look around for a chair, and one obligingly pops into existence behind me. "All we've thought of so far is to keep running." 

    "Yeah, but . . ." Akimiya shifts uncomfortably. "Shinigami can always find each other. You know that." 

    "Not necessarily," I say. "I couldn't find Tsuzuki that one time that Muraki kidnapped him." Pause. "That was a bit before your time." 

    He shrugs. "Maybe that was because of Muraki, though. I mean, God only knows that he's stayed off our radar enough times when it was inconvenient." 

    "Yeah, no kidding." 

    "Well, the point is, I don't think you can just hide from whoever they send after you." 

    I give him a look. "Thanks for the pep talk, Sunshine Boy." 

    He lets out a little sigh. "Look, Hisoka, I'm sorry. I don't know what to tell you. I'd help you if I could. This was totally unfair. But . . ." 

    "But they're going to catch us and send me on anyway," I say shortly. "Yeah, I know. I tried to tell Tsuzuki that, but he wouldn't listen. I don't know what the hell we're going to do, Akimiya." Great, now I feel tears stinging at my eyes. Shoot me now, please. 

    "Well . . ." He shifts uncomfortably. "I'll keep an ear out for news and stuff. And if I hear anything, I'll let you know." 

    "Thanks." 

    I wake up then. Tsuzuki is still asleep, his face peaceful. I wish I could join him, but I don't. I just stare at the ceiling, all night long. 

~~~~ 

    Hijiri tries to keep us distracted the next day. Tsuzuki has decreed that they won't actually start looking for at least a day or two, giving us time to come back on our own, so we have that long to have fun. I try to remind him we should be planning our next move, but he's having none of it. 

    Sight-seeing with Hijiri is surprisingly nostalgic. I mean, we did quite a bit of it the last time that we met up. 

    Tsuzuki skips ahead to buy us ice cream. 

    "It must be hard for you," Hijiri says quietly, staring over the fence at the ocean. "To have finally found a family and have to leave it all behind." 

    I search for a sarcastic comment, a really scathing one. What I actually end up saying is, "Yeah." 

    "Is he worth it?" Hijiri asks with a smile, his eyes following Tsuzuki to the ice cream truck. And in that moment I know he wasn't telling the entire truth. He did love Tsuzuki, but he knew that Tsuzuki loved me, and so he let him go. It's hard to dislike him anymore. 

    "Of course." 

    He turns to me. "Do you have a place to go after this?" 

    "Not yet." I can't help but smile slightly. "I want to try to plan, but that idiot won't hear about it. Even if we found a place to go, I don't know how we'd get there." 

    "Well . . . here." Hijiri reaches into a side pocket and pulls out a large wad of cash. He sees my surprised look. "You know Tsuzuki will never accept it. I know that you don't want to either, but you're practical so you will. You'll need money and I have plenty to spare." 

    I accept the money and tuck it into one of my own pockets. "Thanks." 

    He grins at me. "I owe it all to you guys, anyway. Think of it as your percentage of the profits." 

    I can't hold back an undignified snort. "Yeah, right." But I guess he's right. He would have died if we hadn't been there. He would have been sixteen forever, just like me. I have a brief image of Shinigami-Hijiri. That might have been fun, if only for all the switching tricks we could have played on people. Of course, that would have given him more of a chance at Tsuzuki, which wouldn't have been good. 

    Tsuzuki bounces back from the ice cream vendor and hands out our cones. Then he runs off ahead to look at something equally enthralling. Hijiri and I just walk along in companionable silence, because there's nothing more we need to say. 

~~~~ 

    It's late when we get back. Hijiri apologizes and says he has an early rehearsal the next morning, so he's going to turn in. I tell him to wake us up before he leaves to say goodbye, because we'll be going. Tsuzuki starts to protest, but I give him a death glare and he agrees. 

    "Why do we have to leave?" he asks, after Hijiri has gone to his rehearsal the next morning and we're safely packing up. 

    "We've stayed here long enough," I say firmly. 

    "But no one except Tatsumi and Watari know about Hijiri," he protests. Why do I have a vague feeling he's lying? 

    "And Konoe-Kachou," I remind. 

    "All right, and Kachou." 

    "No one else?" 

    He shifts uncomfortably. 

    "You know, you never told me how you were able to see Hijiri when you were possessed by that demon," I say casually. I'm flailing, but apparently I've hit something, because he flinches. "Ah." 

    "That was . . . sort of . . . EnmaDaiOh's doing," he mumbles. 

    I nearly fall over. "So you took us somewhere that EnmaDaiOh is going to think of. Oh, excellent. And yet you didn't want to leave." I glare at him. "Care to explain that?" 

    He scuffs the floor with one foot. "You're the one who keeps saying it doesn't matter where we go," he says, sounding sullen. 

    "And you keep arguing with me!" I flop onto the bed. "I swear, Tsuzuki, you're acting like you want to get caught!" 

    There's a brief flare of panicked reaction through the bond. I sit up again and stare at him. 

    "Tsuzuki . . ." 

    He looks away. 

    "Tell me," I say softly. "Tell me what you're trying to do." 

    "They're going to catch us no matter what," he replies quietly. "I thought we should have a bit of fun first." 

    "You've been acting like it won't happen," I remind him. "What aren't you telling me?" 

    He shifts uncomfortably. "Well, see, I knew that we could never get away from them," he says, starting to talk in a rush, "so I thought we could do something that would piss them off more and then they'll send us both on instead of just you." 

    I stare at him. "That was your plan?!" 

    He looks at the floor. 

    "That's not a plan! That's the sort of thing you do when a plan already failed!" I march across the room to look him in the eye. "And how do you know we'll go to the same place?" 

    "Oh, we will," he says earnestly. "You're always allowed to keep your loved ones in Heaven." 

    "Tsuzuki," I say softly, "that's not what I meant." 

    He flinches. 

    "Whatever it was you did to deserve an eternity as a Shinigami in penance . . . are you so sure that it won't get you sent to Hell if you die here?" 

    Tsuzuki rubs his eyes. "Aa . . . that was why I became one in the first place. Too good for Hell . . . not good enough for Heaven. So I got this instead, and EnmaDaiOh was supposed to keep an eye on me to make sure that my penance was long enough. When it's over, then I get to go on to Heaven. It was promised to me." He takes a deep breath. "It was an accident. That was why I didn't get sent to Hell for it. Because it was an accident." 

    I reach up and touch his face. "What happened?" 

    "No." He turns away. "I-I'm sorry. I . . . I can't." 

    "You can't tell me?" 

    "I can't rememeber," he gasps out, and presses his hands against his face. "So much of my life has come back in bits and pieces, but that . . . that's still a blank. All I know is that so many people died . . ." 

    He folds into my arms and I embrace him tightly. 

    "That was why . . . in Kyoto." 

    "That was why what?" I ask, confused. 

    "Why Tatsumi and Watari were going to let me die." He rests his head against my shoulder. "I had been a Shinigami for seventy-two years . . . it could have been over. All I wanted was to die so it could be over. And they knew that. They knew it had been promised to me, so they let me try to die." 

    "But I called you back," I say quietly. Out of my own selfish reasons, I kept him from the peace he had been promised. 

    "You called me back," he echoes with a nod. 

    "Because I didn't know." My voice breaks slightly. 

    "Yes," he whispers. "Because you didn't know." 

    We sit in silence. 

    "I'm sorry." It's about all I can offer him, even though I know it's far less than he deserves or needs. 

    He manages a smile and looks up at me, caresses my cheek. "Don't be sorry," he says. "I was never angry with you. Besides . . . you did what nobody else could. You made my existence good, rather than letting me end it." 

    I can't help but smile a little at that. "So what now?" 

    "Now?" His voice drifts off into a sigh. "Now they'll come for us, and they'll send you on to Heaven, and drag me back for my penance." 

    "And then . . .?" 

    "Then . . ." He leans up and brushes his lips over mine. "Then I'll call down Touda. And we'll stay together." 

    I know this is not technically among the best plans I've ever heard. But I sure as hell don't have a better one, and anything would be better than spending Eternity without Tsuzuki. Even Heaven isn't as good as Tsuzuki. 

    More silence. 

    "Well," I finally say. "We may as well make them work for it." I stand up, and pull him up with me. "Come on. I have an idea of where to go. We're going to go see the expert on hiding from Shinigami." 

~~~~ 

    Tsuzuki doesn't really think this is such a good idea, but I manage to talk him into it. I mean, there's not much else we can do, and Muraki is the one who got us into this mess in the first place. It helps that no one will ever think to look for us with him, too. It's a pretty simple matter of using my empathy to track him down, using the money Hijiri gave us to travel. 

    Not to even mention he's staying in probably the most obvious place that I can think of. Sometimes I think he doesn't even care if we track him down. 

    Oriya answers the door at his fancy brothel. Upon seeing me, he grins. "Yo." 

    I glare at him. I never did figure out why he was working with Muraki, other than that they were friends in high school. Old loyalties die hard, I guess. But he did let me have the key when it mattered. "Muraki here?" 

    "No," he answers calmly. "Should I tell him that you're looking for him, next time I see him? It's not very often, you know." 

    "I'm sure." I fold my arms over my chest. "Why don't you go tell him that we're here, and then he can decide whether or not he wants to see us. You know that he'll say yes, because he'll wonder why we're here and his curiosity will get the better of him." 

    Oriya's lips twitch in a smile. "Come in," he says, and holds the door open for us. He leaves us in a sitting room while he goes to get Muraki. 

    Muraki walks in a minute later. I hate it when I'm right. He smiles at both of us benevolently. "Wasn't expecting to get a visit from the two of you," he says. I hate the way he's always so pleasant. You know, until he tries to kill me. 

    In retrospect, it's kind of interesting . . . he only started trying that after Kyoto. I wonder what happened there? I never got the full details from Tsuzuki. He never wanted to talk about it, and I wasn't going to be the one to ask. 

    Tsuzuki smiles right back. "You owe us a favor," he says pleasantly. "We want to know how you've been hiding from the Shinigami all these years." 

    Muraki laughs. "And for exactly what reason would I be inclined to tell you that?" 

    "Well," Tsuzuki says, looking like he might launch himself at Muraki and rip his throat out any second now. "You had the misfortune to interrupt something rather important the other day." 

    "And what was that?" 

    I didn't know that Tsuzuki was going to tell him what was going on, but I suppose he has to if we want to get the spell from him. That makes me feel annoyed, because I don't want Muraki to know what an idiot he made of me. 

    "Hisoka's test to become a full Shinigami," Tsuzuki says quietly. "Because of you, he didn't finish. Because of you, they were going to send him on. So now, in order to stay together, we have to hide from the rest of the Shinigami." 

    "And tell me, Tsuzuki-san . . . why would I want to help you stay together?" Muraki sits down next to Tsuzuki, reaching a hand out towards him. 

    Tsuzuki pushes his hand away. "Because if they take him," he says pleasantly, "I'll call down Touda and burn down the entire world, if need be, to be with him again." 

    Muraki considers this. "So what's in this for me?" 

    "Well," Tsuzuki says dryly, "you seem to be rather enamored of trying to catch me for your own, which won't work very well if I'm in Heaven and safely out of your reach." 

    Muraki smirks. "Are you offering what it sounds like?" 

    Tsuzuki meets his gaze evenly. "I will never be yours voluntarily, Muraki." He reaches out and takes my hand. "I couldn't anyway. Hisoka and I are blood bound now. Like you and I were for that brief period of time." 

    Muraki raises an eyebrow at me. "Did I make you paranoid, little one?" 

    "Just a bit," I retort. 

    "I can't give myself to you," Tsuzuki says, "even if I wanted to. I'm his now. But you must admit that if I die, you won't even be able to ogle me from a distance anymore, as you also seem fond of doing. And seeing as this is all your fault anyway, I think you could do us the favor." 

    Muraki seems to consider this for a long minute. "All right," he finally says. Then he smiles again. "But it'll take a day or two to prepare the spell. You should probably stay here until then." 

    I know damn well that's a crock of shit, and Tsuzuki knows it too. But there's not much we can do about it. Tsuzuki nods reluctantly. 

~~~~ 

    "So did I really keep you from becoming a real Shinigami?" 

    Right. Remind me to never ever offer to go get some tea when trapped in a brothel with Muraki. You'd think these things would occur to me, but no. I just offer and then waltz off like we're at home. I've gotten too used to living in safety, damn it. Don't answer. Just pour the hot water over the tea leaves and pick up the pot. 

    Damn him. He's blocking the doorway. 

    "If you don't mind," I say through clenched teeth, "I'm getting some tea for Tsuzuki. Don't you have something better to be doing?" 

    In three quick steps he has me pinned up against the counter. I drop the pot of water and it breaks on the floor, showering us both with hot water. It doesn't hurt me very much. He doesn't even seem to notice. "I ought to thank you, boy," he says, right into my ear. "You've led Tsuzuki right to me." 

    "And what are you going to do now, kill me?" I snap. "I'm sure that'll work out really well. Especially since coming here was my idea, not his, so he can't even blame himself." 

    "So maybe I won't kill you," he says with a laugh, making me shudder. "Maybe I'll just have some fun with you instead." 

    "Oh, that'll go over great," I snarl. "Why don't you go ahead and rape me right on the counter, and then Tsuzuki can shove the shards of this teapot right up your -- " 

    Bastard kissed me. 

    That's it. I've had enough. I hike my knee right up into his groin. That gets him to let go of me, at which point I punch him across the face. 

    "I. Have had. Enough," I announce, and shove him to the floor. "I've had one of the worst weeks ever and it's all your fault, and I'm going to get my God damned tea unmolested, thank you very much." 

    There's a chuckle from the doorway. Oriya is standing there with his pipe, or cigarette holder, or whatever the hell that thing is. 

    "What are you laughing at?" I snarl. 

    "I just think it's funny that you finally got the best of him." 

    I snatch up a new pot and start to boil water. "Thank you. I find it rather amusing myself." 

    Well, I don't, but it sounds good. Oriya stands there and watches me boil water, which must not be very interesting. Muraki seems to have decided not to get up. Good for him. It's safer on the floor anyway. I resist the urge to pour the boiling water on him. Make tea and go upstairs. 

    "Are you okay?" Tsuzuki asks. "For a minute I thought something was wrong, but then you seemed pretty satisfied with yourself and I thought it might be safer up here." 

    I pour him a mug of tea. "I'm fine." 

    "Really?" He accepts it and looks owlishly over the rim. 

    "Really." I glance back at the door. I think Muraki's still downstairs. "I have an idea." 

    "Oh?" He puts down the mug. 

    "If Muraki is going to make us stay here with him, let's make him pay for it." 

    "What did you have in mind?" Tsuzuki asks, his eyes glinting a little. 

    "Let's have really noisy sex." 

~~~~ 

    For some reason beyond my understanding (ha very ha) Muraki isn't a very good mood that evening. Oriya seems to be secretly laughing his ass off. Oh well, it struck me that he had a pretty strange sense of humor anyway. Tsuzuki and I decide to turn in early. And, well, maybe have some more sex while we're at it, because if that's the only way we can piss Muraki off, I'm certainly not objecting. 

    It's late when there's a knock on our door. Tsuzuki is sound asleep already. "Who is it?" I call sleepily. 

    In answer, that asshole opens the door. Good thing I pulled the blankets up. 

    "What do you want?" 

    "There's someone here to see Tsuzuki-san." 

    I sit up in bed and glare at him. "So, you're supposed to be helping us hide, and you told someone he was here?" 

    "No," he snaps. "He came to the door and asked to see him. He obviously already knew he was here, so I didn't see the point in denying it." He hesitates, which is odd for him. "You'll understand when you see him, anyway." 

    He leaves, and I get Tsuzuki out of bed. He doesn't seem pleased with the situation, but follows me out to the front room after getting dressed. 

    The man standing in the front hall is . . . is . . . 

    He turns to us. He's tall and slender, perfectly formed. His hair is black and feathery, just barely reaching his shoulders. His features . . . there's no word for them. He's honestly the most beautiful man I have ever seen in my entire existence. 

    And his eyes . . . his eyes are pure amethyst. 

    "Asato-kun," he says pleasantly. His voice is smooth and light, and sends waves of ice crashing over me. I feel so cold that I can't move. He's freezing. Everything about him is cold. 

    I know two things without being told. The first is that this . . . man . . . who isn't really a man at all . . . has to be Tsuzuki's father. 

    The second is that we're in far more danger now than we were with Muraki. 

~~~~ 


	6. Chapter Five

_Right around here is where I totally made up Tsuzuki's back story. ^^_

Chapter Five 

    For a long second, no one moves. Muraki is standing against one wall, leaning against it slightly in a pose that might seem arrogant under other circumstances. But if he's feeling anything near the way I do, he needs that wall to keep his balance. Oriya is frozen in the doorway, where he presumably came to see what was going on. Tsuzuki just stands there and stares, and I'm a few steps behind him, unable to move. 

    "T-Tousan . . ." he finally manages. And that seems to be all he can manage, for the moment. 

    His father smiles, apparently pleased that Tsuzuki recognizes him. "Long time no see," he says, and in that smile I can almost see Tsuzuki's cheerful grin. "It's been . . . what . . . eighty-one years or so?" 

    Tsuzuki flinches and I make an attempt to do quick math. He had been a Shinigami for seventy years when I first met him, and that was three years ago. He was twenty-six when he died. So if they last saw each other eighty-one years ago, that would have been . . . when Tsuzuki was eighteen. 

    Eighteen. Just before he got put into the hospital he died in. No one knows -- or at least, no one ever told me -- what happened to Tsuzuki to send him into that catatonic state. Tsuzuki doesn't even remember. But from the look in his eyes, he's remembering now. 

    I reach out and brush my hand against his, so quietly that no one else notices. 

    _//fear _

pain 

        "Stay away from me! Just leave me alone! You're not my father!"// 

    I snatch my hand back, away from the turmoil inside him. Still, no one moves. The ice that this man (?) emanates has frozen over us all. Even Tsuzuki can't seem to move. 

    "Yes," he finally whispers. "Eighty-one years." 

    His father laughs softly. "You've hardly changed a bit since then," he says casually, as if he's totally unaware of the effect he's having on us. Somehow I doubt that. "Whoever would have thought you would become a Shinigami?" His eyes narrow suddenly. "After they kept me imprisoned for so long . . ." 

    Tsuzuki has started to shake. It's just a tiny shivering in his hands, unnoticed by everyone but me, but only for now. 

    His father's eyes turn to me. So purple. So cold. "And who's this?" 

    Tsuzuki manages to get hold of himself again. "Kurosaki Hisoka," he says, and I can tell it's an effort for him to keep his voice even. "My . . ." He catches the icy glint in his father's eyes and swallows hard. "My lover." 

    Interesting that he didn't say husband. I'm not mad about it, just curious. 

    "And this?" His eyes swing to Muraki. He ignores Oriya as if he's not even present. Now I've started to shake too. 

    Tsuzuki's voice is brief and clipped short. "Muraki Kazutaka." 

    His father's eyes dart to him. "He has displeased you." 

    Tsuzuki stares at him, then manages a numb nod. 

    "Why have you not taken care of him?" he asks in interest. Tsuzuki's shaking is obvious now. It's so cold. It looks like even Muraki is starting to shiver. My eyes drift over to the thermostat to see that it's still room temperature. The chill is entirely mental, emotional. 

    "I . . ." Tsuzuki's voice falters. 

    His father nods. "I see." 

    I don't know what he sees, because I sure as hell don't see anything, but I'm somehow not surprised when the man (he's not a man, he can't be a man) marches over to Muraki, puts one hand around his neck, and lifts him up, pinning him to the wall. Muraki makes a little choked noise of surprise, as if it takes him a second to realize that Tsuzuki's father is strangling the life out of him. Oriya makes a move as if to go to him, then falls to his knees, shaking uncontrollably. 

    _//It's been so long . . .// _

    It's a free-floating thought, which I don't usually pick up, but the intensity of it brings it through. I glance up at the man's face to see twisted joy on it -- joy that's seeping into my very being. He's so happy to be able to kill again. It's so cold and I can't think I can't feel all I can feel is his pleasure knifing through me he's so powerful that his mind presses up against mine until I can't escape 

    to hurt to kill to bring pain of any kind that's all he wants and if I can't get him out of my head it's going to be all I want too 

      


and it doesn't matter that it's Muraki he's killing I just want him to stop 

    stop 

STOP 

    "Stop him, please . . ." I'm on my knees, which is funny because I don't remember falling. Tugging on Tsuzuki's pant leg and sobbing from the cold. "Please, please, make him stop . . . make him stop . . ." 

    He glances over at Tsuzuki, and I see Tsuzuki make a barely perceptible nod. The man shrugs and drops Muraki to the ground. That killing cold abates and I can breathe again. 

    What is he? 

    Oriya crawls over to Muraki now, shaking him. He lets out a relieved sigh when Muraki groans, lifting one hand to his throat. I can see claw marks on it, but when I look at Tsuzuki's father, he has no claws. 

    "Why?" he asks me. 

    I just shake my head. My voice has frozen along with the rest of me. 

    He shrugs and turns to Tsuzuki. "Time to go, Asato-kun." 

    Tsuzuki just stares at him, but those words free my voice. "Go?" I ask, and my voice cracks in panic. "Go where? Where are you taking him?" 

    "It's none of your concern," he says, and smiles at me. I'm caught, mesmerized by those eyes. Amethyst covered with frost. "But I suggest you say your goodbyes. You won't be seeing him again." 

    "No!" I lurch to my feet, grab hold of Tsuzuki's arm. "No! You can't . . . you can't take him away from me . . ." 

    He still just looks at me, and I can feel myself freezing, going colder and colder until I can't move. I just can't. Even to save Tsuzuki, I can't. My fingers loosen from around his arm. Tsuzuki is still looking blank-eyed, gone into shock at what's happening around him. Remembering something from eighty-one years ago. 

    "Jaa ne," the man says, and both he and Tsuzuki abruptly disappear, with nothing but a rush of wind to explain their absence. 

    All I can do is sink to my knees. 

    Muraki sits up, still rubbing his throat with one hand. "You saved me," he says, coughing slightly, his eyes narrowed. "Why?" 

    Why? There's really no way to explain it, no way to say that I was losing myself in the evil that was that thing's mind. No way to say that he could have been killing anyone, and I would have reacted the same. It wasn't Muraki's death that I objected to -- it was the pleasure he took in causing it. 

    "I-I . . ." Good start. "He was . . ." 

    Muraki shakes his head impatiently. "Never mind that. I think there's something important you neglected to tell us, boy." 

    I manage a laugh that seems shaky and I know must sound like I'm bordering on hysterics. Which I'm not. I'm well on my way into hysterics. "More like something Tsuzuki neglected to tell me . . ." 

    "What . . ." Oriya's voice trembles and he looks exceedingly displeased at himself for it. "What was that thing?" 

    "Tsuzuki's father," is the only explanation I can come up with. 

    "A demon of some sort," Muraki says, his face creased in a frown as he thinks. "An exceptionally powerful one." He glances at me. "I told Tsuzuki he had demon blood in him. He didn't believe me." 

    "He knew," I whispered. "He just didn't want to admit it. I've known that for ages . . . even since before Kyoto." Yet I told him that he was human. Because he was, when and where it counted. There may be demon blood in him, but he isn't a demon. That's what's important. 

    "What are you going to do?" Muraki asks curiously, and I can only shake my head. 

    "I don't know . . . I need to talk to Tatsumi." 

    He raises an eyebrow at me. He knows who Tatsumi is, but I can tell he's wondering how I'm going to talk to him without getting myself killed. It takes me a minute to figure it out myself. 

    "I need time . . . I need to rest, to sleep, so I can talk to Akimiya . . ." 

    How I'm going to sleep after this is beyond me, but I have to try. Akimiya can get the information I need. Tatsumi will know where that thing took Tsuzuki. He has to know. 

    I lie down on the bed Tsuzuki and I were sharing less than half an hour previous. I hate it when things happen so quickly. The bed is still warm to the touch, and I force myself to curl up underneath the blankets. I stare at the wall for about ten minutes before Muraki comes in and offers me a mug of something. 

    "What is it?" I ask suspiciously. 

    "It's tea," he says calmly. "With a sedative." He catches my look and says, "If I wanted to poison you, I would've done it a hundred times already. And it wouldn't kill you anyway. Drink the tea. If you need to sleep, this will do it." 

    I hate him for being right, but drink the tea anyway. And then I glare at him until he goes away. 

    It doesn't take long to fall asleep after that. Drift into dreams thinking of Akimiya. It's no surprise that he shows up almost immediately. "What is it?" he asks urgently, apparently alarmed by my call. "What's wrong?" 

    I'm sure as hell not explaining all this at once. "I need to talk to Tatsumi," I say. "You can stay for it if you like, but it's important. Can you . . . I don't know, pull him in somehow?" 

    He gives me a funny look. "Of course." Funny, I suppose, because I've seen him do it before. "Even Tatsumi sleeps, and I think four in the morning is probably the best time to try, ne?" He smiles slightly and then for a brief minute he's gone. 

    When he comes back, Tatsumi is with him. "What is it, Kurosaki-kun?" he asks quietly. Either he knows what's going on, or is assuming that something's wrong since I asked for him. 

    "Do you know anything about this man?" Akimiya obligingly pulls up my memory of the man and gives it physical form, a little hologram that we can walk around. Interesting . . . in the metaphorical form, he has wings. Large, black, skeletal wings. No feathers. Not even a membrane connecting the bones like in bat wings. 

    Tatsumi glances at the figure, then pushes his glasses up on his nose. "Yes. That's Ryuushi . . . Tsuzuki-san's father." 

    "Thank you for that singularly worthless piece of information," I snap. If there was something to kick, I'd be kicking it right now. "I know that much. The question is, what is he?" 

    Tatsumi sighs slightly and the figure of Ryuushi vanishes. "He's a blood demon," he says slowly. "Do you know what that is?" 

    I shake my head. "I know the theory behind them . . . aren't they like vampires?" 

    "Yes and no," Tatsumi said. "They do drink human blood, and gain power from it. But they aren't killed by sunlight or stakes. They're notoriously hard to kill, in fact. And the extremely powerful ones don't have to drink blood . . . they merely have to draw blood, and they can absorb your energy from it." 

    "So he was a blood demon." That would explain the claw marks on Muraki's neck. Well, I've got no objection to someone sucking up some of Muraki's power, but still. 

    "Yes. And . . ." Tatsumi hesitates. "He's a prince of Hell." 

    I feel like all the bones just went out of my legs. Akimiya catches me as I sag to the ground. Saagatanasu was . . . what, a general of the Makai? Serving a duke? Given how powerful he was, how powerful would a prince be? Ten times? Fifty times? 

    "Why did he come?" I ask weakly. "Tatsumi, just give me the whole story. Please." 

    Tatsumi settles onto one of the chairs that has appeared. Akimiya helps me into one of them. "This is a complicated story," Tatsumi warns me. "I doubt that even Tsuzuki-san knows all of it; I learned about it in my free time." He rubs the bridge of his nose as if he has a headache. "About a century ago, Ryuushi, who was then a very powerful demon, had the . . . misfortune . . . to bear a son." 

    I bristle at that comment, but Tatsumi holds up a hand to stop me. 

    "I say misfortune because it was, to Tsuzuki-san's mother, in any case. The union was . . . shall we say . . . somewhat less than voluntary." 

    Great. Tsuzuki's not only a demon, he's the product of a rape. Let's make sure he never finds out about that. 

    "Ryuushi intended to take the child back to Hell with him, to raise him up to rule at his right-hand. Unfortunately, Tsuzuki-san's mother took exception to this. She was a powerful magician herself, which was why Ryuushi had picked her. She put a strong warding spell on the boy and dumped him at an orphanage. When Ryuushi came to her, demanding to know what she'd done with their son, she refused to tell him." 

    I'm caught up in the story, despite my worry for Tsuzuki. "What happened to her?" 

    "He killed her," Tatsumi says flatly. "But he couldn't find Tsuzuki-san. It took him eighteen years to break the warding spell and locate his son. Tsuzuki-san was in school at the time. You know about his childhood, I assume?" 

    "I know that he was persecuted and tormented, if that's what you mean," I say wearily. 

    He nods. "He was . . . not popular. To put it mildly. In any case, Ryuushi then made an appearance. He told Tsuzuki-san to come with him to Hell, and they would destroy the dimensional barrier -- merging Chijou and Hell. He was told he could have revenge against everyone who had ever hurt him." 

    Tatsumi sighs slightly. "But you know Tsuzuki-san . . . even being tortured by them, he still cared for them. He wanted to be human. So he wouldn't go. 

    "Ryuushi tried to force him. They got into a fight. In the end, the entire school campus he was on had been destroyed . . . almost a thousand people killed." 

    I stare at him. "Ryuushi . . ." 

    Tatsumi shakes his head. "No. Not Ryuushi." 

    I choke back tears. "Tell me." 

    "Do you know why Tsuzuki-san has so many Shikigami?" Tatsumi asks quietly. It feels like he's changing the subject, but somehow I don't think he is. So instead, I just shake my head. He continues with, "Have you ever seen Tsuzuki-san fight with his own powers?" 

    I have to stop and think about that. I'm not sure I have. Defensive actions, yes . . . like the barrier ofuda he gave to me on our first assignment, freezing people in place, some minor telekinesis . . . "No. I don't think so." 

    "The reason Tsuzuki-san has so many Shikigami is because he can never use his own powers," Tatsumi says. "He's too powerful. When he was fighting Ryuushi . . . he panicked. And in doing so unleashed the demon side of himself. The resulting explosion leveled more than a city block." 

    I can only stare at him. 

    "That amount of power going through an untrained mind nearly destroyed him," Tatsumi continues softly. "In the end, it almost shattered his mind. But the demon side of him managed to absorb enough of the backlash that he retained some of his sanity. He was put in a hospital, where he remained for eight years. After his repeated attempts to suicide, he finally died." 

    "And became a Shinigami." I can hardly manage to hold back my tears. "Penance for the hundreds of people he killed." 

    Tatsumi bows his head slightly. "Yes. Penance." 

    "It wasn't his fault," I protest. 

    "I know," Tatsumi says sharply. "It wasn't my decision. Some said he should go straight to hell. But that couldn't be allowed." 

    "Because . . .?" 

    "Because we knew if he ever met up with Ryuushi again . . ." 

    "That's a thought," I say suddenly. "Ryuushi said something about having been imprisoned by the Shinigami. What's that about?" 

    "After the fight in which Tsuzuki-san nearly blasted him off the face of the planet," Tatsumi says, "Ryuushi was significantly weakened. The Shinigami were able to capture him and imprison him." 

    "And why didn't you just kill him?" I ask. 

    "As I said, blood demons are hard to kill," Tatsumi says. "No one had the power and the knowledge of exactly how to do it. If that direct an explosion hadn't killed him, we didn't know what would." 

    I nod slowly. "So Tsuzuki became a Shinigami. Was he told?" 

    "No," Tatsumi says. "Tsuzuki-san had no memory of his father or of the destruction he had caused. We let it rest." 

    "So what the hell is the bastard doing wandering around now?" I demand. 

    "He escaped," Tatsumi says through clenched teeth. "We don't know how or why or even when." 

    "Well, I think why is pretty obvious," I say quietly. "Because he just showed up here and ran off with Tsuzuki." 

    Tatsumi swears under his breath. It's the first time I've ever heard him do so. "Did Tsuzuki-san go willingly?" 

    "He seemed to be in shock," I say, then venture, "I think his memory was returning." 

    Tatsumi looks pained. "I'm sure Ryuushi has taken up his plan to merge the two dimensions . . . and is now probably out to destroy the entire JuohCho while he's at it. He's got enough reason to hate us, and thanks to recent events, Tsuzuki-san does too." 

    "Tsuzuki would never . . ." I protest, until I remember Tsuzuki smiling sweetly and saying he would call down Touda and burn down the entire world to stay with me. 

    "Ryuushi's undoubtedly taken him to Hell," Tatsumi muses. "As he threatened to do twice before. It would be impossible to recover him now." 

    "They'll destroy the world," I say softly. 

    Tatsumi pushes his glasses up on his nose. "Most likely." 

    I swear at him, softly and thoroughly and using the whole extent of my vocabulary. 

    "I doubt that will help," Tatsumi says. 

    "How can you be so calm?" Akimiya asks him, and I jump. He's been so quiet, I'd nearly forgotten he was there. "This is the end of the world we're talking about here!" 

    "I don't believe Tsuzuki-san will do it," he says, with great conviction that I wish I felt. 

    I don't feel it, though. But I know what I have to do. 

    "Tatsumi." 

    He glances at me. 

    "I'm going to go get Tsuzuki." 

    Akimiya gapes at me. "But he's in Hell." 

    "Yes," I say softly. "I'm aware of that." 

    Tatsumi shakes his head at me. "You'll never make it. Hell is a maze, and it's guarded by demons. You don't even have any information on how it's designed." 

    I smile at him viciously. "Well, then," I say, "I guess you'd better tell me everything you know." 

    He looks at me intently. "You honestly intend to do this." 

    I nod. 

    Silence. 

    "All right," he finally says. "I'll tell you what I know. But it isn't much. Hell has five levels. And before you ask, I don't know what any of them are or what any of them are like. Theoretically, they parallel the levels of death -- but I have no idea what that means. All I know is that demons can skip levels, but regular spirits have to descend in order until they reach the inner level -- undoubtedly where Ryuushi and Tsuzuki-san are going to be. I don't know how to go about descending." 

    "That's all?" I ask, when he falls silent. 

    "That's all I know." He gives me a look. "I've never been to Hell. And nobody that I know of has ever returned from it." 

    "How do I get in?" 

    "There are transfer points. Magical hotspots. I can give you directions to one." Thank God, at least he knows that much. "Where are you?" 

    Pause. "Kyoto." 

    He blinks at me. "Why on earth are you -- no, never mind. There are plenty in Kyoto." I listen to the directions and repeat them all back to make sure I've got them. 

    "It's dangerous," he says. "You shouldn't go alone." 

    "I'll do my best," I say with a sigh. 

    "One more thing," he says. "This is important -- if you die in Hell, you will remain in Hell. There's nothing that anyone can do to get you out." 

    I nod. "All right." 

    There's not much to be said after that. Tatsumi departs, leaving Akimiya and I standing in the Dreamscape. 

    "I was going to contact you anyway," he says softly. "I had a Dream about you last night." 

    I stiffen. If Akimiya is bothering to mention it, he must think -- or know -- that it's a prophetic dream. "What was it?" 

    He shakes his head. "It was confusing. I think I understand it a little better now, but I still don't quite see . . . anyway, you and Tsuzuki were running for a door, but it shut before you could get through. You were trapped on opposite sides. Then I saw someone who looked like Tsuzuki but wasn't. His eyes were purple, but they glowed red. And then . . . the world caught fire." 

    I try to figure that out and have relatively little luck. "What the hell does all that mean?" I snap. 

    "I don't know," he says helplessly. "Sometimes the dreams work on metaphors, sometimes they don't. All I can say is that you'll know when you get there." 

    "Fat lot of good that does me," I snarl. All right, I'm upset. 

    He sighs. "Hisoka . . . be all right. Okay? I don't know if I'll be able to contact you once you're gone . . . I've never tried to reach beyond a dimensional barrier before." 

    That makes me think, and I realize my bond with Tsuzuki is cut off. Not gone, it's just like a cord that runs up against a wall and stops. I guess that until I'm in Hell, I won't be able to feel his presence again. All the more reason to get going. 

    "I'll try my best," I say with a wan smile. 

    It's a fight to wake up, going against the sedative like that, but I manage. It's dawn. Probably around five or five thirty. I struggle out of bed, still dazed and wavering. Muraki and Oriya are sitting in the kitchen, drinking tea. "Well?" Muraki asks, trying to sound disinterested. 

    I wobble over and sit down next to them. "That was Ryuushi. He's a blood demon and a prince of Hell." 

    Oriya's hands still in the act of pouring me a cup of tea, then continue. 

    "He's taken Tsuzuki to Hell." My voice cracks. I'm only now realizing the ramifications of what I decided to do. "He's going to try to use Tsuzuki to break the dimensional barrier between Hell and Chijou." 

    "Why Tsuzuki-san?" Muraki asks. "He's obviously more powerful than his son." 

    "Because . . . I think . . . Tatsumi said that much power can tear someone apart. I think he'd rather it be Tsuzuki than himself." Tatsumi didn't mention that, but it's the only explanation I can think of. Otherwise, he would have done it a long time ago. He's powerful enough to do it, but it would be a suicide mission. So he'll talk Tsuzuki into doing it for him. 

    "So what now?" Oriya asks. 

    "I'm going into Hell to get Tsuzuki back." 

    They both blink at me. 

    "And you're coming with me." I look up and meet Muraki's gaze squarely. I may hate the man, but he's damn powerful, and against Ryuushi I'll need someone. 

    He raises an eyebrow. "Am I, now?" 

    I nod. "I won't survive alone. You're more powerful than me, and I . . ." I bite my lip and force myself to say it. "I'll need your help." 

    "And why should I?" he asks. 

    "Surely even you can understand the consequences if Ryuushi breaks the boundaries between here and Hell," I snap. "Besides, I saved your life. You owe me a favor." 

    "I saved your life once," he points out. 

    It takes me a minute to remember when. Right, that damn demon that I fought badly. "Muraki, you killed me. And you've continuously tried to kill me again. The one time you've saved my life doesn't really count for much in comparison." 

    "He's got a point," Oriya observes dryly. 

    "I'll make a deal with you, boy," Muraki says slowly. 

    I want to protest, but I'm in no position to bargain. And Muraki knows it, damn it. "What is it?" 

    "In return for saving my life, I'll stop trying to kill you." He sees my eyes narrow in displeasure and adds, "I'll also go with you to find Tsuzuki-san . . . if you'll help me find another resident of Hell." 

    "Who?" 

    "Shindo Saki." 

    I'm too tired and terrified to ask who the hell that is and why Muraki wants to find him. I'm not sure I would care under any circumstances. "Are you sure he's in Hell?" 

    Muraki's eyes glint. "Oh, yes," he says softly. "I'm sure." 

    Whatever. I don't care anymore. He'll come, and that's all that matters. "Deal. You help me find Tsuzuki, and I'll help you find Saki." 

    "Agreed." He reaches out for my hand, and I shake it. I still hate him, but I also need him right now. It irks me. But Tsuzuki, wherever he is, is counting on me. "I'll go make some preparations." 

    I don't know what he has to do, but I don't particularly care. He stands and walks out. 

    "Who is Shindo Saki?" I ask Oriya, sipping my tea. 

    He doesn't even look up. "Muraki's half-brother. And before you ask, yes, he deserves everything that Muraki is going to do to him." 

    I hesitate. "That thing you said to me . . . last time . . . you said that every madman has his reasons for what he does." 

    He laughs. "I'm surprised you remember that. It was more than a year ago." 

    "Is Saki Muraki's reason?" 

    His nod is slight, almost nonexistent. 

    I just look at him. "Why do you care about him?" I ask, trying to keep the contempt out of my voice. "Don't you know what he is?" 

    "Yes," Oriya says quietly, and meets my gaze evenly. "Do you?" 

    I think back to Tsubaki-hime, to arguing with her about how we both thought that the other didn't know Muraki at all. Is it even remotely possible that the man has a good side? That there's something worth caring about in him? 

    Oriya sighs, seeing my incredulous look. "You don't understand," he says quietly. 

    "I think I do." Of all the people to be having a heart to heart with, Oriya was not on the list of expected. "Tsuzuki . . . Tsuzuki is half blood demon, and he killed hundreds of people . . . he has the power to destroy the world . . . but even knowing that, I don't love him any less. I don't think I could ever stop loving him, no matter what happened." 

    Oriya puts down his mug, but says nothing. 

    "Why do you care about him?" I whisper. I don't know why I want to know, but I do. I have to know. 

    "Because . . ." Oriya hesitates, and sighs. "Because, when I first met him, he wasn't that much different from you." 

    He stands up and leaves the room. 

    Muraki walks back in before I've fully digested that statement. "Are you ready to go?" 

    I get to my feet. "Aa. As ready as I'll ever be." 

~~~~ 

::insert dramatic music here:: 


	7. Chapter Six

_Warnings: Of all bizarre places to steal the format of Hell from, I got it from a Star Trek book: I, Q. (A good book, by the way.) But it's not explained until the next chapter anyway, so ha ha! ::coughs::_

Chapter Six 

    Oriya offers to drive us to the hotspot Tatsumi gave me directions to, which strikes me as . . . kind of funny, I guess. I can't really picture him behind the wheel of a car. He looks like he stepped out of the wrong century, anyway. 

    "So do you have any idea what we're facing?" Muraki asks. He doesn't seem to have anything with him. I don't know how he prepared for going into Hell, but it wasn't with things. I didn't see much to do other than grab a stack of Tsuzuki's protective ofuda from his coat pocket. They're stronger than mine. I can't use his offensive ones, though. I have no idea how much 'jitsu, if any, will work in Hell. 

    "Not much of a clue, unfortunately." I have my gun, if that might help. Which I sincerely doubt. I mean, bullets might hurt demons, but they'd never kill it. Especially not any powerful ones. And I only have one extra clip of bullets. But it makes me feel better. "All I know is that we're sure to be fighting demons, and Hell has five levels. We have to get to the fifth." 

    "That's informative," Muraki says mildly. "Any idea what these levels are like, or how we travel between them?" 

    "All Tatsumi could tell me was that they parallel the five levels of death," I snap. I'm in a bad mood, but who can blame me? Stuck with Muraki of all people. "That ring any bells for you?" 

    His face creases in a frown for a second, then it vanishes. "Actually, it does sound familiar. But I can't quite place it." 

    I roll my eyes at him. "Anyway, that's all we have. It's not like people normally go in and out of Hell. The only other thing he told me was that if we die in Hell, we're stuck there. Not that it matters to you." I give him a critical look. "You're going to wind up there anyway." 

    He glares at me. If looks could kill . . . well, if looks could kill, I probably would have killed Muraki before he could kill me. I'm very proud of my glare. "I'll keep that in mind," he says softly. I have images of him killing me just before we get to leave. Okay, not good. He did promise, but why do I not trust him? Funny question, right? 

    Right. 

    Well, here we are. The express train to Hell. 

    "Good luck," Oriya says to Muraki. Muraki just nods at him and I open the gateway the way Tatsumi instructed me. "Hey, one question," Oriya says, frowning suddenly. The portal is gaping open before us. "Once you get in, how do you get out?" 

    Muraki looks at me. 

    I look back at him. 

    "We'll figure it out," Muraki calls back nonchalantly. 

    We step through the portal. 

~~~~ 

    Well. Hell is . . . hellish. About the way you would expect a place like this to look. Rocks, fire, brimstone. The whole bit. Wailing and gnashing of teeth. "This is far too ordinary," I murmur as we pick our way down a steep path. The rocks keep sliding out from underneath our feet. 

    "You know why it's like this?" Muraki asks, actually offering me a hand to get down to solid ground. Oh, a river of lava. Remind me to avoid that in my near future. "Because they don't want people to go looking for the other levels. Give everyone what they expect, and they'll never realize there's more to it than face value." 

    "Good point." We walk single file next to the river. "But then the question becomes, how do we get past the face value ourselves?" 

    It's blisteringly hot. We've only been walking for about ten minutes and my clothes are practically sticking to my body from sweat. All I want is a glass of water, but did I think to bring any provisions? No, because I'm a fucking idiot. Not that I'll die if I don't get any, but it's going to be a damned inconvenience. 

    "Here." Muraki hands me a bottle of water. 

    I blink at it, then take the cap off and sip. I have to force myself not to gulp half the bottle down. Then I try to hand it back, but he gestures for me to keep it. 

    By the time fifteen minutes have passed, I've taken off my jean jacket and tossed it by the side of the path. Muraki has lost both his coat and his suit jacket, though he's carrying the former but has put down the latter. He's also unbuttoned the top button of his shirt and rolled the sleeves up. I have a feeling it's about as far from impeccable as I'll ever see him. 

    "You should leave that coat," I say, wiping my forehead off for about the hundredth time. 

    "I like this coat," he says. "Besides, for all we know, the next level will be below freezing." 

    As much as I hate to admit it, he's got a point. I hope Shinigami can't get frostbite. It's never been tested. 

    "Look, this is stupid," I say, leaning against a cliff face. "We're just overheating ourselves. There's got to be a smarter way to go about this." 

    "Oh?" He looks at me. "And what would you suggest?" 

    "I don't know!" I half-yell in frustration. "I don't have a fucking clue what I'm doing, all right?" 

    "Don't yell," he says. "Someone will hear you." 

    It takes me a long minute, but I manage to force myself to regain some semblance of calm. Take a few deep breaths of the air, which stings at my lungs. "Okay." 

    "Can you feel Tsuzuki's presence at all?" he finally asks. 

    "Yes," I say. "But it's very faint. Like he's very far away. We noticed it once before when I had to go on assignment and I ended up carrying the investigation all the way to Hong Kong. It got faint then, too. I can feel his existence, but it's not clear enough for me to read any of his emotions . . . or his location. We could play hot-cold with it, but until we get closer, that's not going to help." 

    He nods slightly. "The five levels of death," he murmurs, and falls silent. 

    I look around, take another sip of water. "Aren't there road maps around here?" I mutter, which Muraki seems to find amusing. "Walking like this is stupid. For all we know, we need to be going in the other direction." 

    Muraki looks at me impassively, over the rims of his glasses. "I do agree with you, you know," he says after a moment. "But I'd like to know what you think we should be doing instead." 

    "I don't know," I admit, kicking at a rock. It skids away, into the lava river. "But there must be something we can -- " 

    "Be quiet." Muraki cuts me off. Normally I'd object to this, but he's got a listening look on his face. Now that I'm not talking, I can hear a faint cry, sounding similar to an eagle or some other bird of prey. But it's too human. There's intelligence in the tone. 

    "What is it?" I murmur, pressing myself harder against the rock wall. 

    "Demons of some kind," Muraki says quietly. "I think they know we're here." 

    "Splendid." I take out one of Tsuzuki's protective ofuda and clutch it in one fist. 

    Muraki glances at it and nods approvingly. "That'll help. Let's find some cover." We both scan the horizon for an interminably long moment. "I think if we go left at this fork, we'll find a cave." 

    I have to squint to see the dark opening he's referring to. "Even at a flat run, that'll take at least five minutes," I say. "And we can't run on this trail. It's too narrow." Not to even mention that one side drops steeply into the lava river. 

    "Do we have a choice?" Muraki asks, and takes off at a brisk jog. He's too dignified to jog. It's very weird. 

    We've made it about halfway down the path, which is better than I would have figured, when the demons attack. They're about the size of eagles, maybe a little bigger, but their eyes are focused on us. They shriek and dive for us, but Tsuzuki's barrier repels them. For now. It won't withstand repeated abuse, not without him here to back it up. 

    Muraki grabs me by the wrist and tows me along efficiently, both of us stumbling along as best we can on the narrow path. The barrier shatters after three or four more dives and the largest of the birds swoops into me, knocking me off my feet. 

    I feel myself falling backwards and scream. If Muraki didn't have me by the wrist, I would have wound up in the lava river. As it is, I end up dangling over the side of the path and Muraki winds up on his knees, holding me with one hand and trying to protect himself with the other. 

    I wrap my hand around his wrist and try to get purchase on the wall with my feet, but it doesn't work. Oh well for that. Get the gun out of where it's tucked into my pants with my free hand. "Get down!" 

    Muraki, still holding onto me, throws himself to the ground. I take aim and fire, knocking one of the demons out of the sky. It's enough to spook the rest, and they take off. I'm left dangling over the river. 

    "Pull me up, damn it!" 

    But he's looking below me. His face is creased with the concentration of keeping me from falling, but there's something in his eyes . . . 

    Rule one: never look down. 

    But I do anyway, and see hundreds of souls of the damned looking back at me from within the river. 

    I can't help it. I let loose a bloodcurdling shriek and begin trying to kick my way up again. The souls surge up out of the lava and cling to my legs, trying to drag me back down, into the lava, and I'm screaming, screaming, screaming. 

    I manage to get enough leverage to wrap my other hand around Muraki's wrist. He's pulling as hard as he can, I can tell, but his strength is no match for the hundreds of souls on the other end. I'm panicking and I know it but oh God I don't want to die this way -- 

    "This may hurt," Muraki says suddenly, and lightning cracklings at his fingertips. It sends an electric shock through me and my entire body jerks and spasms. The electricity travels down me and into the souls, who let go. Muraki yanks me up onto the ledge and we both gasp for breath. 

    "I didn't know you could do that," I finally manage. 

    He smiles arrogantly. "Live and learn, boy." Then he glances at the sky. "Now let's get to that cave." 

    I nod and make it to my feet, tottering after him. It takes about another ten minutes to reach the cave, and we both slump down inside it, not speaking. Sip the water, try to pull myself together. Right. This is impossible. 

    I don't even realize I said that last bit aloud until Muraki looks at me. "Good attitude you've got there," he says. 

    "Oh, shut up." I lean against the wall and press both my hands against my face. "It's damn well impossible and you know it. We don't know how to get between the levels, so we're never going to get anywhere. And I don't think we could just go out and ask, do you?" 

    "We'll figure it out," Muraki says. Calm and implacable as always. I hate him. 

    "This isn't happening," I say. That seems to help, seems to bring some sense of calm. "This isn't happening. It's all another nightmare. I'll wake up and I'll be with Tsuzuki again and this isn't happening, this can't be happening -- " 

    Muraki lets out a surprised exclamation and I take my hands away from my face. It's about then I realize that the floor has opened up beneath me and I'm falling through it. Muraki leaps forward to catch me, but we're both dragged through the opening. 

    As I fall, I see it close above us. 

    Then I black out. 

~~~~ 

    "Ugh." There it is, folks, my grand statement of the day. Ugh. Where the hell am I? For a minute, I was sure that I was dead. But apparently that isn't true. Or at least, I'm not any deader than I already was, which is a plus. There are always degrees of dead. The five levels of death. It may ring a bell to Muraki, but I'm lost. 

    Muraki, right. Time to sit up. I manage it with effort. My entire body aches, and I have a feeling it's because I was lying face down on a dirt road. I brush the dirt off my clothes. I have no idea how long I've been unconscious. My watch is no help. So it's three o'clock. That could be morning or afternoon, on any day. 

    So I look around, get a glimpse of our surroundings. 

    "What the hell?!" My jaw hits the floor. Well, the dirt road. 

    "That was my reaction," Muraki says dryly. He's sitting next to me in the dirt, smoking a cigarette. 

    Where we are . . . looks like . . . well, for lack of a better term, it looks like some vision of Heaven. We're sitting in a big field, with a blue, cloudless sky. There are trees on the horizon and the air smells like flowers. The road we're on isn't paved, but it's wide enough for four or five people to walk side by side, and the dirt is well-packed. 

    "It must be the second level," I venture. Muraki gives me a 'well duh' look, which coming from him makes me want to giggle. "You know any levels of death that have flowers?" I ask, immediately wanting to redeem myself. The look only intensifies. "Oh, shut up." I get to my feet. The aches in my body subside after I get moving a bit. "Let's go." 

    I half expect Muraki to ask where we're going, but I suppose at least this time we have a road, so we're doing far better than on the first level. Those narrow rocky paths aren't anything I want to repeat any time soon. 

    The air is pleasantly cool and there's a gentle breeze. It's perfect. All my hair is standing on end, it's so perfect. There's something inherently wrong with this entire setup. I don't know, maybe it's because we're in Hell and this just isn't the kind of thing you expect from Hell. 

    "How do you think we made it from the first level to the second?" I ask. I'm not bothered by empty silence, but I'd like to know, and I don't want to give Muraki any time to plot my demise. 

    He shakes his head. "I have no idea. Maybe it's just on a timer?" 

    "But then all the souls would drop through to the fifth level," I say. "And I don't think they do. We were only there a couple of hours." 

    We walk in silence for a little while, both of us mulling all this over. Muraki has put his coat back on so he doesn't have to carry it. God only knows how the bastard kept it with him all this time. Even if I had been carrying my jacket, I would have dropped it when I nearly fell in the lava river. 

    I open the bottle of water and realize that it's empty. "Wish there was a stream around here or something," I say, displaying the empty bottle. Muraki just nods agreement. I'm sure that his is empty as well. 

    Still more walking. I'll say one thing for this level: it sure is boring. Not that I'm complaining. I think I'd far rather have boredom than damned souls clinging to my legs. But still. 

    We round a bend in the road and I see a stream. Thank . . . I suppose it would be sacrilegious to thank God, given that we're in Hell. Well, thank somebody. I kneel down next to it and take out my water bottle. On second thought, I should probably test it first. It might be boiling hot or something. 

    I dip my fingers into it and then yank them back, too surprised to even shriek. All I manage is a pained gasp. 

    "What's wr -- " Muraki comes up beside me and stops dead, watching my fingers regenerate in silence. 

    "Acid," I say softly. It hurts like a son of a bitch, but I've hurt worse, and I'm regenerating quickly enough that the pain is fading. "It's acid." 

    Muraki sighs and puts his water bottle away. "So much for that." 

    I take a minute to offer up thanks that I reached in with my right hand, thus saving my wedding ring. I would have been pissed if it'd gotten dissolved by acid. Not to even mention that it would have been a really bad omen. 

    "Well, so we go thirsty," I say with a shrug. "There isn't much we can do about it." 

    So we . . . yes, you've got it. We continue to walk. It's so quiet that it's disturbing. I'd give a lot just to hear one bird chirp. We're following the river, but even that seems to be flowing silently. It's altogether weird and creepy and I don't like it. 

    "So this is Hell," Muraki says at length, looking around. "Eternal sunshine." 

    "I can see how it would drive you nuts after a while," I say, shivering slightly. "It's the quiet that's getting to me." 

    "Yes, well . . ." Muraki considers that. "After being around Tsuzuki so much, I imagine that you're not used to quiet." 

    I have to laugh at that. We decide to rest, sitting on the road. No one else is here anyway. I squint up at the sun. It seems blood red around the edges. "I wonder if it's raining in the Meifu," I murmur to myself. 

    "Hm?" Muraki looks over at me, apparently not realizing that I wasn't talking to him. 

    "Well . . . the Meifu is supposed to be a mirror of Chijou, only without any of the hardships that Chijou endures," I explain. I don't know why I'm bothering to explain this to him, but I suppose we have nothing better to talk about. And I'll admit that the silence is starting to get to me. "So the weather is usually . . . well, like this. And the trees are always in bloom. But sometimes it rains, or even storms. I asked Tsuzuki why once, since the trees don't need water to live. They're spiritual in nature. And he said that the rain comforts some people." 

    I look up at the infinitely sunny sky. "I didn't really understand why until now." 

    Muraki glances up at it with me. "I'm not sure eternal sunlight would bother me," he says slowly. "But we've been here at least two hours and the sun hasn't moved an inch. Eternal day time . . . that would bother me." 

    He's got a point. Twilight is my favorite time of the day. I'm not sure I could stand it being high noon all the time. 

    I sigh and haul myself to my feet. "Come on, let's go." 

    We walk. And walk. And walk some more. My watch tells me that we've been here for about three and a half hours. It feels much longer. Well, that's probably because of the sunlight. Damn it all. In a way, this level is even worse than the last. I'm so on edge, expecting something to happen, that the peace and quiet is killing me. 

    Muraki stops suddenly. "Does this look familiar to you?" he asks slowly, and I feel a sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach. 

    I take a long look around. "I can't even tell," I say flatly. "Everything looks the same. It's impossible to tell whether or not I've seen any of it before." 

    We keep walking, though it's seeming distinctly half-hearted this time. 

    As we round the bend, we see the river. I didn't really notice when we branched off from it, but this is undoubtedly the same place where we saw it the first time. 

    Muraki and I look at each other. 

    I offer up a potent curse and sit down in the dirt. 

    "Well," I say, lying back and staring up at the sky. "Now what? It's obvious that this path just goes in a big loop. There weren't any forks or branches. So where to from here?" 

    Muraki sits down next to me, though in a much more dignified manner. "We have to leave the path," he says, as if this is obvious. Which I suppose it probably was. But that's a lot easier said than done. 

    "Leave it and go where?" I ask wearily. 

    He shrugs. "We could try for the forest." 

    I snort. "Yeah, because I'm sure once we reach it there's a sign saying 'third level this way.'" 

    "You know, you don't have to be such a defeatist all the time," Muraki says dryly. 

    "I probably wouldn't be if I'd been allowed to reach my seventeeth birthday," I snap. "So fuck off." 

    He shrugs. "You could have. That curse could have lasted five years or more. You're the one who gave up." 

    That's it. I launch for him and try to punch him, but he grabs my arm and twists it around behind my back. That's at least the second time he's done that to me. You'd think I would learn. But hey, I got a good shot in last time. "Let me go," I say through clenched teeth, struggling to get free. 

    He does, but he gives me a good solid push first, so I wind up on the other side of the path. "If we're going to survive this," he says coldly, "we're going to have to put our differences aside. You must know that." 

    I massage my shoulder, even though it no longer hurts, and give him a dirty look. "Thank you, Einstein." 

    He shrugs. "I thought I might inform you, since you seemed to have forgotten." 

    "You were deliberately baiting me," I snap. 

    "Only because you brought it up." He smiles at me. "Besides, you're so cute when you're angry." 

    "This is ridiculous." I stand up. "Let's go to the fucking forest and see if we can find anything useful." 

    "Like a sign saying 'third level this way'?" he asks dryly. 

    I shoot him a glare and march off into the meadow. Muraki is toodling along at his own pace, pulling his coat on, glancing around. Well, screw him anyway. I've walked about a minute at a brisk pace before I step on something that makes an unpleasant squishing noise. 

    "Stop!" I shout back to Muraki. He was just about to step off the path and into the meadow. 

    "What is it?" he calls. 

    "I'm not sure, but -- " 

    The ground erupts beneath me. Dozens of little creatures, sort of like bats, sort of like rodents, swarm around me. I let out a startled screech and grab some ofuda, tossing them out to burn some of the things. Even so, three or four of them get through, clawing at my arms and face. 

    All I can do is run, bolting back for the relative safety of the path. The grass clings to my shoes, trying to slow me down. As soon as I reach it, they fall back. Settle back into the grass, waiting. 

    Muraki catches me as I collapse into a heap. "I would have tried to help, but they were too close to you," he explains. "Are you all right?" 

    The cuts are healing quickly, but my body is shaking from reaction, and from something else. "Poison," I manage. I can barely breathe. Good thing I don't really need air. 

    "Can you heal it?" he asks. 

    I nod. It'll take me a minute, but I can do it. So Muraki stands over me protectively, which is rather amusing somehow, while my body deals with what was done to it. After a few minutes, the shaking eases and the pain stops. 

    I sit up, wobbling dizzily. I really wish I had some water right about now. Shinigami can't die from hunger or thirst, but that doesn't mean we don't get hungry or thirsty. "So we can't walk anywhere but on the path." 

    "Seems that way," Muraki observes. "But remember, when we came from the first level to the second, destination didn't seem to have anything to do with it. Maybe we don't need to leave the path." 

    "Still . . ." I look around. "We've walked around the entire path. You'd think if there was something here that would transport us, we would have tripped it already." 

    "Maybe it only transports you once you've gone around it ten or twelve times," he says dryly. 

    "Oh, shut up." Pause to consider. "And . . . I can't believe I'm saying this. Put your arms around my waist and hold tight. I'm going to fly and you should probably come." 

    He smirks. 

    "If you make one single comment, I'll . . ." Look around for a suitable threat. Yeah, right. "I'll drop you into the meadow." 

    "Duly noted." Muraki wraps his arms around my waist. I try my best to ignore him. I'm not the best at flying, since I don't do it very often, and it's going to be tricky to navigate while carrying Muraki. 

    I tell him as much. "So if you distract me in the slightest -- " 

    "Hisoka," Muraki says, "Shut up." 

    It's the first time he's ever called me by name. I'm not quite sure what to think of that, so I just take off into the air. His arms tighten around me as we lift higher. As far as the eye can see is mostly meadow. The edges of the forest are barely distinguishable, so I can't see what lies beyond them. 

    "Should I fly for the forest?" I ask. 

    "Unless you've got some other brilliant idea," Muraki replies. 

    I would shoot him a dirty look, but I can't really. Mostly because I'm struggling with a sudden wind. "Hold on," I say, trying to regain my balance. Then, very suddenly, the wind grabs me and hurls me sideways. We go flying head over heels and I try desperately to right myself, but the wind doesn't let up. 

    Now we're falling, and I reach upwards desperately, finally managing to swoop up about one foot away from the meadow. The grass was reaching for us. 

    The path is about fifty feet away, and I dive for it. The wind catches me again and yanks me upwards just as I reach it. Muraki, damn him, has the good sense to let go, and I see him land on the path with a thud. But I'm hurtling upwards at an astonishing speed, getting warmer and warmer as I get closer to the sun. 

    Far down below, looking about the size of a coin, I see a purple pentagram spring into life around Muraki. Then I freeze in midair. I glance around me to see a copy of the pentagram. He's drawing me back to him. Never thought I'd be glad to be drawn to Muraki . . . 

    I touch down gently and my knees go weak, spilling me to the ground. Gasp for breath. "Thanks," I say weakly. 

    He accepts that with a nod. "I think it's safe to say that we can't leave the path." 

    I'd like, a lot, to be able to make a sarcastic retort to that, but I just don't have it in me. I just nod in return. 

    "Now what?" he asks. 

    I don't know, and I wish I did. God, I would give anything to know how this works, to know what the levels were and how to get there. Anything for it to all make sense, so I could be with Tsuzuki again. If I get out of this, I swear I'll do whatever it takes to keep him with me, forever . . . 

    I glance up to see Muraki looking at me intently. Then I look down to see the path opening underneath me. Wordlessly, I let it swallow me up, only awake of Muraki diving in before it can close. 

~~~~ 


	8. Chapter Seven

_Warnings: I used Saki's manga backstory here. I think. Or at least some warped combination of the manga version and the anime version. Also warnings for extreme unnecessary cruelty to Hisoka and -- you guessed it -- another cliffhanger._

Chapter Seven 

    "Well, this is . . ." Words fail me. Totally fail me. At least before we had somewhere to walk. Now I've woken up to find myself in a room that's maybe ten feet by ten feet, white walls, no windows, no furniture. The only thing here is a door on the far side of the room. 

    Muraki is leaning against the wall, looking at the door as if he's afraid of what's behind it. Which he very well might be. I mean, I am. Not that you'd ever catch me admitting it in front of him. 

    I stand up and stretch. "Might as well get it over with," I say. 

    "I suppose so," Muraki agrees. "Should we knock?" 

    "And chance them saying we can't come in? I don't think we dare. For all we know, this leads outside. Or something." 

    "Or something," Muraki echoes dryly. We both stand there. "Aren't you going to open it?" 

    "Of course I am," I snap, and push it open. There's a narrow hallway, maybe three feet wide and five feet long. At the other end is another door. "This is stupid," I decide after we spend more quality time staring at it, and push the other door open. We're faced with a room just like the one we left, except there's a plain black desk set up between us and the far door. 

    Sitting at it is . . . well . . . just an ordinary guy. He's not a demon, as far as my empathy can tell, so I'm presuming he's a damned soul. He steeples his hands and looks at us. "What can I do for you?" His voice is pleasant; I'd say he's probably in his forties somewhere. 

    We blink at him. "Can we go through?" I ask. "Or can -- " I'm struck with sudden inspiration. "Can you tell us how to get through the levels?" 

    "Sure, sure," he says, waving his hands like a used car salesman. "Anything can be had for a price." 

    "A . . . price?" More blinking on our part. 

    He smiles and nods. "What can you offer me in exchange for the information?" 

    "I don't know," I stammer. "What do you want?" 

    "Well, given that I'm stuck here for Eternity, there isn't much," he says mournfully. "It's kind of a catch-22, this level. You can't leave until you give us what we want, but there's nothing that you can give us that we'd want. You know?" 

    "Why are you here?" Muraki asks him. 

    He shakes a finger at us. "That's information. Information can only be had for a price." 

    "Are you stuck here?" I ask skeptically. "Making deals for nothing?" 

    He nods. "It's a dreary job," he mutters. "But better than the first two levels. If you get all the way down to the fifth, sometimes they reward you. Reward you! Hah!" 

    "So you are a damned soul?" I manage, poking cautiously at his mind. 

    "What did you think I was, a general of the Makai?" he asks dryly. 

    I shrug. "How about . . ." I search desperately for anything we might be able to give him, and latch onto an idea. "Your happiness," I blurt out. "I'm an empath. If you have any happy memories, I can pull them up and feed them back to you in a loop. You wouldn't even have to realize you were here." 

    His eyes widen fractionally. "You can do that?" 

    I nod. I've never done it before, but there's no reason why it wouldn't work, and anyway, if the loop wears down, we'll be long gone by then. 

    "Give me a little taste," he says, smiling. 

    So I dig around in his mind and pull out the memory of his honeymoon. Sex is always a good thing to give to people, I've found. He smiles wistfully at the memory, reliving it in his own mind. "All right, I believe you," he says. "What do you want to know? I'll tell you, and then you can lock me in and be going." 

    "What are the five levels of Hell?" 

    "The five levels of death," he replies. "Anger, Denial, Bargaining, Despair, Acceptance." 

    I blink at him. It's so quiet in here I can almost hear the sounds of my eyelids. But it makes sense. "How do you move between them?" 

    "It's different for each level." 

    "How do I get out of this one?" 

    "Make it down this hallway. There's thirty rooms. If you can strike a bargain with each of us, you're done." 

    I frown at him. Something about that doesn't seem quite right, but there's not much I can say. "And then?" 

    "Then . . ." His lips twist in a smile. "Then, despair. I've said enough. Give me my happiness and be going." 

    I nod, pull up enough memories to make a continuous loop, and lock him into it. It'll hold for at least a few hours. I don't know what will happen when we leave Hell. Then I waver with weariness, leaning against the table. 

    We leave the room and find ourselves in another narrow hallway with another door. 

    "Can you do that another twenty-nine times?" Muraki asks me, raising an eyebrow. 

    I raise an eyebrow right back. "Do I have a choice?" 

~~~~ 

    You know, there's an old phrase about biting off more than you can chew, which I think fits this situation quite aptly. Because I definitely have. Specifically in trying to get through this third level, though I suppose you could apply the phrase to the fact that I came to Hell in the first place. 

    By the time we're through the first five doors, I'm so exhausted that I can barely stand. Muraki suggests we take a break, so I slump to the ground in the little hallway. 

    "Do you think the first man was telling the truth?" he asks me. "That there are thirty rooms, and we have to go through all of them?" 

    "I don't know," I say, and it comes out as half a moan. "None of the other levels seem to have had tasks set up for the souls traveling through, but I don't know how all this works. If I just knew that, I'd be all set, but . . ." 

    "Because I don't think you can continue to do this," he says, giving me a critical look. 

    "Thanks, Dr. Obvious," I snap. I suppose it makes me angry because he's right. I can't keep doing this. By the time we get to the end, I'll be so worn out that I won't be any use to anyone -- and that's if we stop for frequent breaks. 

    There's a brief moment of silence. 

    "Look, I'm sorry," I force myself to say. Apologizing to him makes my skin crawl with annoyance. "I know that I can't keep doing this, but I don't see any other way." 

    He doesn't say anything. So I don't either. Which results in us getting absolutely nowhere. Way to go, us. 

    "Come on," I say, hauling myself to my feet. "Let's go." 

    I stumble through the next two rooms, and when I get to the third and reach for the energy necessary, I just don't have it. I've burned up all my reserves, and those will take time to replenish. So I do the smart thing and stare helplessly at the man whose happiness I'm supposed to be delivering. 

    Muraki reaches out and rests a hand on my shoulder. Even under normal circumstances, the touch would make me flinch, but now he uses it to transfer some of his energy to me. 

    I use that to complete the empathy, then walk out into the hallway with him on my heels. "How long can you keep that up?" I ask. 

    He shrugs. "We'll have to see, now won't we." 

~~~~ 

    So tired. So, so tired. Can't keep doing this anymore. Muraki and I collapse in the twenty-first hallway, both of us too exhausted to even keep walking. Should be sleeping, but can't. Apparently the damned don't get sleep. So we lie there with our eyes closed. It's anyone's guess what he's thinking. Hell, it's anyone's guess what I'm thinking, too. I'm too tired to figure it out myself. 

    Have to keep going. Have to get to Tsuzuki. How long has it been? I'm not sure. Can't keep track of how long because I keep passing out between levels. Probably at least a full day, though. Tsuzuki's been gone a full day. I lasted five weeks without him last time. But this time? I don't know what's happening to him. 

    I thought our bond would kick back in when I got to Hell, but it hasn't. It's still cut off. I guess that must be because we're not on the same level. When I find him again . . . oh please let me find him again . . . 

    Just think of him. Keep thinking of him and I won't have to think about where I am or what's happening. Think of his gentle touch and his amethyst eyes. Eyes that no human can have. Demon. 

    _// "that boy is so scary, it's like he can read my thoughts . . . he must be a demon . . . " //_

    No. Tsuzuki is no more demon than I am. We are what life makes of us, and it made Tsuzuki into someone wonderful. He's not a demon. I'll find him and we'll leave, and then . . . then . . . 

    Then what? 

    "Oi," Muraki says. "Are you all right?" 

    I hadn't even realized I was crying. I'm so tired that I can't hold it back anymore. I bury my face in my arm to hide the tears. 

    _// "And then?" _

    "Then . . . then, despair." // 

    "Come on." Muraki puts an arm underneath me and lifts me up to my feet. "We have to keep moving." 

    How the hell is he managing this? His cause is no greater than mine, yet he seemed unfazed by all of this. Why? 

    But I think I understand. He holds no delusions of getting out and returning to the life he had. He knew this was a suicide mission from the beginning, and he doesn't care. He wants to find Saki and kill him, and then he'll be content to die. But I can't make that sort of deal with myself. 

    Make a deal. Bargaining. If only I could figure out how this worked . . . 

    We push open the door. 

    The man sitting at the desk is in his mid-twenties, and he looks cold and cruel. Looking at him, I feel the ice cold of despair seeping into me again. Just from touching his mind, I know he won't accept our deal. He has no happy memories. It won't work. 

    "What can you offer me?" he asks quietly. 

    There's no happiness there, just a strain of something more evil and perverted than Muraki himself. (And is that ever saying something.) He's looking at me. He wants . . . he wants . . . 

    "Oh God no." I shudder and sink to the floor, hugging myself as if to keep all the pieces from falling apart. Muraki gives me a questioning look, but I can't bring myself to speak. Take a few deep breaths and try to calm myself, which fails miserably. "No . . . No, I can't, I can't . . ." 

    "Pull yourself together," Muraki says sharply. "What can't you do?" 

    Think of Tsuzuki. 

    Think only of Tsuzuki. 

    _// "My life for your life." // _

    I pull myself to my feet, wavering to one side and then catching myself as I start to fall. 

    _// "My death for your life." // _

    Muraki is still staring at me, uncertain as to what I'm doing. I'd tell him, but I don't think I could bring myself to say it. 

    _// "My life for your death." // _

    This might be the hardest thing I've ever done. And still he watches me, his eyes devouring every detail of my presence. How many teenaged boys did he do this to? I don't even want to contemplate. No wonder he's in Hell. 

    _// "My death for your death." // _

    Think only of Tsuzuki. 

    "I offer you myself." 

~~~~ 

    Room twenty-three. 

    Muraki is carrying me. I'd protest, but I don't have the strength. I can't walk, so there's really not many other options anyway. To his credit, he says nothing about what happened in the last room. He went back out into the hallway to wait, and I told him when we could go. 

    Thinking of Tsuzuki. 

    "There's nothing you can offer me," the damned soul says, his voice dull. "Nothing, unless you can get me out of here." 

    Which we can't do. "I can give you your happiness," I mumble into Muraki's shoulder. I don't think even he heard me, but maybe he did, because he repeats my words. Only using the word 'we' instead of 'I'. How thoughtful of him. I guess it really is a team project now. 

    "No!" He stands up. "I know what you intend to do, and I won't allow it. We don't deserve happiness. That's why we're here. I won't let you." 

    Muraki stares at him. I'm too tired to even care. 

    "There's nothing we can offer you?" Muraki finally asks. 

    "Nothing," the man snaps. "Now get out." 

    Muraki backs into the hallway and sets me down. "We seem to have a bit of a problem," he tells me, as if I wasn't listening. Actually, I suppose I can't blame him for that. He probably doesn't even know whether or not I'm conscious. 

    "I heard." My voice is hoarse. From screaming or from tears. I don't know which. 

    "What do you want to do?" 

    I pull my knees up to my chest and curl into a ball. Fetal position, the most protected position. Wishing that Tsuzuki was here to wrap himself around me and keep my safe. "It doesn't matter. We'll never get out of here." 

    "That's -- " 

    Muraki stops. 

    And I feel myself sinking through the floor. 

~~~~ 

    Well, level four is just . . . dandy. It looks like a swamp. We're sitting in about six inches of stagnant water. Everything is very dull and gray and wet. I've been here thirty seconds and I hate it. Passed out again, damn it. And my watch has stopped working. I guess it isn't waterproof. 

    All around us, other damned souls are lying around in the muck, staring sightlessly at the sky. It's more than a little creepy. Occasionally we hear one of them moan. Despair. It seeps into me from all around, and I have to slam up the strongest empathic shields I have to keep from going insane. 

    "I've got it!" I practically shriek. 

    Muraki looks at me. "Got what?" 

    "I know how it works!" I tell him excitedly. "Think back. Level one, anger." 

    "It was a pretty angry level," he says dryly. 

    "Not that, you blithering idiot," I snap. It feels good to be up to insulting Muraki again. I still lack the strength to even walk, but my mouth is functioning again, and so is my brain. "What did I say just before we got to the second level?" 

    Muraki frowns, thinking. "You said 'this isn't happening,'" he says, and his eyes start to widen as he understands. 

    "Exactly. I started to deny, so we sank through to denial. Then we got to bargaining when I started to pray to some unknown figure and say that I would do whatever it took to get through this." 

    Muraki rolls his eyes. "I wish you'd done that out loud. I might have figured it out sooner. So we got here because -- " 

    "Because I gave up," I say with a nod. "I decided it was hopeless. Why weren't you doing any of the things to open up the gap between levels?" 

    He shrugs. "Maybe you just beat me to it each time." 

    I give him a dirty look. "So all we have to do to get to the last level is . . . accept." 

    He blinks at him. "Accept what?" 

    "I'm working on that." 

    "Well, it's not to accept that we're in Hell," he says slowly. "Because we both did that a long time ago." 

    "But maybe you can't sink directly from one to five," I reply. "Because that seems to be the most obvious thing to have to accept." I pause. "Okay . . . I'm in Hell. I accept it." 

    Nothing happens. 

    "Right, so much for that." 

    "Do you have your strength back?" Muraki asks. "I'd prefer to continue this conversation somewhere a bit more dry." 

    I nod. "Enough to walk, anyway." I stand up. The mud makes a disgusting sucking sound as I pull out of it, and it's clinging to my clothes. Ew. "But I'm pretty sure that no matter where we go, it's all going to look the same." 

    "Most likely," Muraki agrees. "But walking will keep us warm. Besides, I thought I saw a light in the distance." 

    "By all means, lead the way," I say, gesturing. 

    He gives me a withering look and we start to walk again, trudging through the muck. After a few minutes, we even come to a path of sorts. It's not much, just a strip of mud that's covered in less water than the rest of the ground. 

    "I really wish those people would stop moaning," he says conversationally, as we continue to walk. 

    "No kidding." I'm shivering uncontrollably from cold. 

    "Told you that you should have kept your jacket," he remarks. I just glare at him. "If we could find a dry spot, we could try to light a fire." 

    "Yeah, right," I say, looking around. "Where's that light you saw?" 

    "I'm not sure," he admits. 

    I sigh. "Let's sit down for a bit." 

    We manage to find a place where two large boulders sit next to the path, and haul ourselves up onto them. It's really not worth trying to start a fire. Even if we could find a dry spot, all the trees are soaked. We'd never be able to find enough dry wood. 

    "Ne, Muraki . . ." 

    "Hm?" 

    "Why did you come?" Call me a glutton for punishment, but I'm actually interested in talking to the man. I think the cold is going to my head. But at least it'll give me something else to think about. 

    He raises an eyebrow at me. "To find Saki. I thought I'd made that clear." 

    "Yes, but . . . why?" I huddle into a ball on the rock, resting my chin on my knees. It's so cold here, I hate it. Cold goes right to my bones. I guess it must be because I'm so thin. "Do you hate him that much, even after death?" 

    Now why does that phrase sound familiar? 

    "Yes," Muraki says, apparently not disturbed by this line of questioning. 

    Tsubaki-hime. She asked me that about Muraki. Do you hate him that much, even after death. Of course, I never figured out if she was referring to my death or his (since he had 'died' on that assignment, after all.) I did hate him that much. But I'm not sure I still do, which really annoys me. 

    I want to continue to hate him. Not so much for what he did to me, but for what he did to Tsuzuki. 

    _// "I was taught that you should always forgive. That we could never judge people's true motivations." //_

    Akimiya told me that, about the man who had killed him and tried to rape his fiancee. 

    Is Muraki truly so desperate to be loved that he would take anything he could get, even by forcing Tsuzuki to be his? 

    Damn it, I don't want to think like this! I was content to hate him! I never wanted to forgive him, or even think that there might be a reason to do so. Why am I thinking like this? 

    _// "Because when I first met him . . . he wasn't that much different from you." //_

    I wanted to understand Muraki when we first met again. Wanted to know what had made him so evil, so perverted. Wanted to know what could have made someone like him. But it went so deep that I couldn't find its roots, so I gave up. And sat back to hate him without even thinking twice about it. 

    Now I have the roots of his evil in front of me, and I can't help but wonder . . . have I been wrong this entire time? 

    Muraki lights a cigarette. 

    "Why do you hate your brother?" I have to know. I don't want to know, but I have to. 

    "He killed my father," Muraki says absently, as if he's not even really thinking about what we're talking about. "He tore our entire family apart. And he tried to kill me as well. But then he died, at the hands of someone else." 

    I remember the Queen Camilla, thinking that Muraki had died. I remember not knowing how to feel. I was happy that his evil was gone, yes, but at the same time I wished it had been me that had killed him. 

    "I kept part of him," Muraki continues. "I studied cloning and genetics. I was going to create a body for him, so I could kill him myself." 

    Okay, that's . . . just about the creepiest thing I've ever heard. Maybe the most fucked up, too. 

    Muraki shrugs slightly. "But it was destroyed when the lab in Kyoto got burned down by Touda." He smiles crookedly. "I haven't had much to do since then." 

    "Is that why you started trying to kill me?" I ask dryly. 

    He still smiles. "Part of the reason, yes." 

    I try to imagine that. Try to imagine having only one goal that I live for, and have it suddenly taken away. By the time I thought Muraki was dead, even for that brief time after Kyoto, I had Tsuzuki. I had something else to live for. What would it be like to have no purpose, no reason to exist? 

    "You have no intention of getting out of this alive, do you?" I ask him softly. 

    He shrugs. "What are the odds?" 

    "Not good," I admit. "But they won't get any better by not acknowledging a chance." 

    "Well, as you said," Muraki says with a twisted smile, "I'm going to wind up here anyway. So what does it matter if I die here? Nobody would care, least of all you." 

    Silence falls, and I shiver. 

    "Oriya would," I say softly. 

    Muraki gives me a sharp look, but he doesn't reply. 

    Acceptance. What do we have to accept? Each other? This world? The hopelessness of the entire situation? 

    "Oriya knows I'm not coming back," Muraki says, his voice very quiet. 

    There's nothing I can say, because I know he's right. 

    "Well, well, well," a new voice says, as if our thinking about him has summoned him up. Which, given our location, is totally possible. He has a passing resemblance to Muraki, though his hair is dark where Muraki's is silver. "What have we here?" 

    "Saki . . ." Muraki breathes the word out so softly that I barely hear him, like a valediction. 

    "Of all the places to meet you again," Saki says with a smirk, "actually, I did expect it to be here. You're paying for your crimes at least, Kazutaka?" 

    Muraki stands up. "Actually, I came to kill you." 

    Saki laughs. "Got some news for you. I'm already dead." 

    "I know," Muraki says. "Which is why my plan is to dissolve your soul as if you never existed." 

    Can he do that? 

    Saki laughs mockingly. "You'll have to catch me first," he says, and weaves off through the swamp at a surprising speed to vanish in the distance. 

    "Saki!" Muraki stumbles after him. "SAKI!" 

    And with that, he tears a hole into the very fabric of reality, and follows his brother somewhere that I can't go. 

    I stare after him. 

    Alone. 

    You'd think I'd be used to it by now. 

    Acceptance. But there's nothing to accept. 

    And that's when it hits me. There's no way to the fifth level. It's probably a place that only other demons can go. It isn't open to souls of the damned. Or even souls of the Shinigami, trying desperately to find someone trapped. 

    There's no way out. 

    I try to run after Muraki but fall, land facedown in the mud. It feels like I'm falling forever. 

    And then, with a sharp thud, I land on a stone cold marble floor at Tsuzuki's feet. 

~~~~ 


	9. Chapter Eight

_Um.... just please don't kill me._

Chapter Eight 

    I think I must have clocked my head a good one, because the world is doing some really interesting blurry things right about now. And I could swear that I'm seeing Tsuzuki in front of me, standing in front of me and looking down with a curious look on his face. "Hisoka?" 

    No, that's definitely his voice. I'm not hallucinating. He's really here. Wow, does my head hurt. But even though I can see him and hear him, I can't feel him. All I can feel is that cold. Ryuushi must be here somewhere, but where? 

    "Hisoka?" 

    I manage to struggle my way to my feet. "Ts . . . Tsuzuki . . ." 

    He gets an arm around my shoulders and helps me to my feet. But even with the touch, there's nothing. My empathy isn't shut off, because I can feel vague unease and curiosity from the others around me. 

    I take the opportunity to look around while I regain some sense of balance. I'm in what looks like a huge throne room. Everything is done in black and red marble. It's very beautiful, in that cold sort of way. There's a huge black throne at the head of the room, adorned in silver. The drapes are dark red. No lights except large batches of candles placed intermittently and torches on the walls. 

    Ryuushi is sitting in the throne. He's wearing a simple black kimono with red and silver trim. It's only now sinking in that Tsuzuki is wearing the same thing. It's so seldom that I see him in anything other than a suit that it takes a minute to sink in. His has purple trim instead of red. And he looks . . . well, the words absolutely gorgeous leap to mind. 

    Everyone else is clad similarly. Most of them are fairly handsome or pretty, depending on their gender. I'm assuming they're Ryuushi's court, for lack of a better word. I feel very out of place in my long-sleeved T-shirt and jeans. Orange. Why am I wearing orange, damn it? Tsuzuki doesn't like it. Or at least he claims he doesn't like it, but I have a suspicion he's always found it cute that I wear a color that looks so horrible on me. 

    "So you made it, huh," Tsuzuki says, smiling slightly. He looks strange. There's not anything I can particularly put my finger on, but it just doesn't look right. It doesn't look like him. "Must've been quite a trip." 

    "Tsuzuki . . ." My brain is freezing in the cold again. I manage to wrap my arms around his waist and bury my face in his chest. I'm only barely holding back tears, and only managing it because I don't want to cry in front of an entire room of blood demons. Right, that would just be bad. 

    Tsuzuki hugs me back. "See?" he says, and I assume he's talking to Ryuushi. "I told you that he'd make it." 

    "So you were right." Ryuushi speaks up, his voice soft and icy. I can feel his presence coming closer. "I'll admit that I underestimated the little one, here. It's quite impressive that he managed to get through all five levels of Hell intact. And in only three days, too." 

    Three days? That's how long it's been? I must have been unconscious between levels for longer than I'd thought. Or maybe time passes differently in them; I suppose that's possible too. But the more important question is, why are Tsuzuki and Ryuushi getting along? Last time I checked, Tsuzuki was terrified of the man. 

    Tsuzuki lets me go and I back away a step. Something's wrong. Something is very, very wrong. Maybe it's some trick of Hell, but this . . . this isn't Tsuzuki. It's a trick, or something. It has to be. It's not him. 

    "Tsuzuki . . .?" 

    "He catches on quick, doesn't he," Ryuushi says, smiling. 

    Tsuzuki nods and smiles, and his smile makes me feel like I'm coated over with ice. "He's very quick. That's why I knew he'd come." 

    "I-I don't understand," I stammer. "What's going on, Tsuzuki?" 

    "And he keeps trying!" Ryuushi sounds absolutely gleeful. "This is hysterical! He's really in love with you, isn't he!" 

    "I know." Tsuzuki's smile is so bright that it's blinding me. "It's rather endearing, really." 

    I can only stare at him. "What are you talking about?" 

    He laughs. It might be the most horrible sound I've ever heard; cold and mocking. "Hisoka, you're so cute. You're so gullible, really. I can't believe I had you fooled for this long. I mean, as an empath, I'd think you would have figured it out a long time ago." 

    _// "If you think he can't manipulate empathy, you're wrong, and you should have known that for years by now." //_

    I shake my head. "No." 

    "And he still tries to deny it!" Ryuushi claps and settles back into his throne. "This is excellent. A good day's entertainment. Go ahead, Tsuzuki . . . I want to see his reactions as he finds it all out." 

    Tsuzuki smiles. "Whatever you want, 'tousan." 

    I give Tsuzuki a firm push, sending him stumbling backwards a few steps. "God damn it, Tsuzuki! Tell me what's going on! If you don't love me, then you damn well better say so!" 

    "Fine," Tsuzuki says with a shrug. "I don't love you. Happy now?" 

    I want to be upset, but first I'm settling for being angry. I'm so angry that I can barely breathe. "Then why?" I can't manage it above a whisper. "Why did you do this? You . . . you married me . . ." 

    I make the mistake of looking at his hands. The ring is gone. 

    "No . . . no, no, no . . ." 

    He laughs. "You want an explanation? I can give you one, if that's what you want." 

    I manage a nod. Still trying desperately to hold back tears, but the first ones are starting to sting at my eyes. No. I won't cry in front of them -- in front of him. 

    "See, it's all one big misunderstanding where the Shinigami are concerned," he says breezily. "It wasn't a mistake when I blew up the school. I hated it there. They ridiculed me and made me feel like . . . like nothing." His mouth twists in a sneer, an expression I've never seen on his face before. "When 'tousan found me, and offered to take me away . . . of course I wanted to go. He taught me how to use the power, and I got revenge on all those people who had ever hurt me . . ." 

    I press my hands against my mouth to hold back a sob. 

    He shrugs. "It backfired, though. I was too young and untrained, and I couldn't control it. Nearly shattered my own mind and rather unfortunately did some damage to 'tousan. The Shinigami captured him. So when I died, I became a Shinigami . . . and started looking for a way to free him. Of course, they believed my pathetic excuse of amnesia, and that it had been an accident. 

    "I thought that I was going to be fine, even though I couldn't figure out yet how to free 'tousan. Then . . . you showed up." 

    There's something far worse than hatred in his voice when he says that. 

    Contempt. 

    "Because of your empathy, and since you were my partner, I knew it was only a matter of time before you saw through it. I'd managed to get rid of all my other partners so far, but I wasn't sure that would work for you. But once Gushoshin told me a little about your past, I came up with the perfect plan. I would make you fall in love with me. I would blind you to what I really was by giving you something you couldn't possibly resist." 

    He laughs again. "God, it was so easy. No one had ever given you so much as a word of kindness. All I had to do was be nice to you, be gentle. It actually took you a lot longer than I thought it would. But I suppose it just took you that long to admit it, ne? 

    "I wasn't expecting all the stuff that just happened, but it worked out well in the end. I wouldn't have been able to just leave with 'tousan, not easily. But since I was already gone, he just met up with me and it worked out fine. So now . . ." He smiles, and it's cold, just like Ryuushi is cold. "Now we'll leave Hell, destroy EnmaCho, and merge Chijou and Hell." 

    I feel my knees going weak, and I want to just fall over, but won't allow myself to. "It . . . it was all a lie?" 

    "Now he's got it," Ryuushi drawls from his throne. 

    "But . . . but Muraki, and Kyoto . . ." 

    Tsuzuki laughs. "Oh, yes, Muraki. I had to explain that to 'tousan, too. See, it was just luck that we met Muraki, and I found out he was the one who killed you. He's been doing me a few servies. People draw together the best in times of adversity, you know? So I had him do me the favor. He was what drove us together, even you must have realized that by now. I could have done it without him, but he made it much easier on me. Haven't you ever wondered how he got into the Meifu that one time? I had to let him in, or else he wouldn't have been able to." 

    I blink at him. 

    "Make sense now?" Tsuzuki asks, smirking. 

    Yes, it does make sense. It all makes perfect sense. 

    "But don't worry," Tsuzuki says, and he reaches up to caress my face. I flinch away, resisting the ugre to cry out. "I've actually grown a bit fond of you. When this is all over, 'tousan is going to rule Hell and I'm going to rule the Meifu, and you can be my . . . what was that word you used, 'tousan?" 

    "Consort," Ryuushi tells him. 

    "Yes, that was it." Tsuzuki still smiles at me. "Does that sound okay with you?" 

    I shake my head. "No." Shove all the emotions to the back of my head and try to deal with this on a factual basis. "No, that isn't okay." Force myself to stand up straight and look him in the eye. Those beautiful purple eyes. Demon eyes. "If you never loved me . . . if this was all a lie . . . then I won't stay with you." 

    Tsuzuki laughs. "I didn't say you had a choice in the matter. I just asked if it sounded okay." 

    Ryuushi stands up and comes to rest his hand on Tsuzuki's shoulder. "Why don't we give him a night to think it over, ne?" 

    Tsuzuki nods. "That sounds fine." He reaches out and touches my cheek again, and I feel the ice spread over my body. Funny that he was the first one to melt it all away, and now he's the one to build it all back up. 

    And I make my decision then. Somehow, and I don't know how, I'll stop him from doing this. And then I'll die and go to Heaven, and maybe that will heal this wound. Maybe. 

    A few of the demons come up and grab me by the arms, and I'm too numb to resist as they haul me away. 

~~~~ 

    The cell where I find myself is about four feet by four feet. The ceiling is high enough for me to stand up, but if I want to lie down, I have to curl up. The walls are uncut stone, and they're damp. Uncomfortable to lean against. They glisten in the torch light. The bars are too close together to squeeze through, but I can easily see through them. The corridor we came down looks exactly the same. 

    I'm still too numb to do much thinking, which is probably a good thing. Otherwise I'd be trying to kill myself right about now. 

    The door opens and creaks as Ryuushi walks in. Maybe the cold would be burning me by now, if I were capable of feeling at all. Thinking of Tsuzuki. I wish that I could stop. 

    "So are you enjoying Hell?" Ryuushi asks, his voice dripping disdain. 

    "Oh, yeah." I hear my voice speaking, which is kind of amusing. My mouth has gained a life of its own. "I thought you could improve the decor a little, you know, maybe ditch all the reds and blacks and replace it with pink and white. It would make the place so much more friendly." 

    "I'm sure it would," Ryuushi agrees, standing just inside the door. "But we don't want it to be friendly, you know." 

    "I'm sure," I say dryly, getting to my feet. "But you know, I could really suggest a few improvements. That fourth level in particular. You know what would be cool? If you could see things in the distance, but when you walked toward them, they just got further away." 

    "That would be quite entertaining, yes," Ryuushi agrees. 

    "Why are you here?" I ask wearily. "Don't tell me this is just a courtesy visit." 

    "Of course not. But I didn't want you to think we were just going to leave you in a cell to rot." He laughs shortly. "Personally, I think Asato-kun is cracked for actually wanting to keep you. I'll admit that you have a certain . . . charm, though." He reaches out and touches my face, almost like Tsuzuki did earlier. 

    "Don't touch me." 

    He raises an eyebrow at me. "As if you have any leverage here. You can't tell me what to do." 

    "What do you want with me?!" I'm practically screaming now. 

    He pushes me up against the wall, his face only inches from mine. "I want to cause you pain," he breathes softly. "I want to hurt you until you can't endure your existence anymore. I spent so many years unable to hurt anyone. It nearly drove me insane. Imagine all that you are, all you've ever existed for, taken away from you, and to be locked into a little cage for what may be forever." 

    "I know exactly how that feels, thank you," I snap. "I'm going through it right now." 

    He laughs and lets go. "I suppose you are." 

    "So what are you going to do to me?" I ask quietly. 

    "I'll admit that I want to save the majority of it for while Asato-kun is here to watch," he says, and I can't hold back a shudder. "But there is something I'd like to do now." 

    I just give him a suspicious look. 

    "Do you know what a blood demon is? I assume that you must have done at least a little research, or you never would have been able to get through Hell unscathed. Or at least as unscathed as you are." 

    I have a feeling he'll be annoyed if I don't answer, so I think I'd better. "Aa . . . blood demons get energy from human blood. Most have to drink it, but the powerful ones only have to draw it." 

    He nods. "Though it still packs a more powerful punch when you drink it, but you have the basic idea. Now, how powerful would you say I am?" 

    "I don't know." Pause. "Very?" 

    "Very good. The problem is that after Asato-kun . . . accidentally blasted me so badly, I lose a lot of my inner energy. Being locked away for nearly a century hasn't helped much. So I figured you can give me a boost . . . ne?" 

    I shudder as he backs me against the wall. 

    "It doesn't hurt . . . much," he whispers, and kisses me. I feel his teeth sink into my lip and try not to cry out as the taste of blood fills my mouth. I can feel my energy slowly draining away and end up using the wall to keep upright. At first it doesn't hurt, not beyond the small wound, but then he taps some . . . some inner source of energy 

    oh God it hurts so much 

    and then it's over. He lets me sink to the ground, holding one hand to my bleeding mouth. Still bleeding. Not healing. 

    "That's much better," he says, and shakes himself slightly. Those huge black wings start to emerge from his back. Skeletal wings. "I feel much more like . . . myself." 

    "Is Tsuzuki really going to help you destroy the world?" I whisper. 

    He laughs. "So it would seem." 

    "I . . . I can't believe that." 

    "I'm sure you can't." He smiles at me. "Even now, you're still in love with him. Even after everything he's done to you. That's quite impressive. Your devotion is admirable, if quite stupid." 

    "You couldn't possibly understand," I say sullenly, and look away. 

    "Of course not. Demons can't love. Half-demons can, if given the right . . . incentive, but it's very rare. Of course, Asato-kun was raised in a human society, so I suppose it would be possible. But still not likely. Didn't that ever occur to you? You loved him even though he was part demon. Don't you know how stupid that is?" 

    I can't answer, and only barely manage to stifle a sob. 

    "Or were you trying to deny that he was a demon? I suppose that's possible." Ryuushi looks too enthralled with figuring this out. I'd really like to punch him, but I don't think that would be a good idea. "Well, you may as well get some rest. I'm sure we'll be seeing you tomorrow." 

    He leaves, and I'm finally alone in my pathetic little cell. All I can do is curl up into a little ball and cry myself to sleep. 

~~~~ 

    "Hisoka? Hisoka, can you hear me?" 

    I open my eyes to see Akimiya in front of me. But it's weird, it's like he's a watercolor painting that's running. He's fading in and out as I watch him, and his voice sounds like it's coming through twenty feet of water. It's unclear and muffled. 

    "I . . . I hear you," I whisper. 

    "Are you in Hell? It's awfully hard to get through. I can hear you, but I can't see you . . ." He's looking around this dark little landscape as if he expects me to appear out of nowhere. 

    "Yes . . . I am." I'd really like a hug, and Akimiya is generally pretty good about that sort of thing, but I'm afraid that if I touch him, he'll disappear. "All the way in the fifth level." 

    "Things aren't great up here, Tatsumi-san is practically freaking out," Akimiya says. "How are things with you? Have you found Tsuzuki?" 

    I nod, then remember he said he can't see me. "Yes. I did find him." I can't bring myself to tell him everything that happened. I just can't. 

    "That's good," Akimiya says. "What's the plan?" 

    "I-I don't know. Ryuushi wants to merge Chijou and Hell again, and they're going to try to destroy EnmaCho. I think he's going to try to use Tsuzuki as his instrument. Something about how now that he has more training, it might not affect him the same way." 

    "I think Shinigami probably have tougher minds than the average human," Akimiya agrees. The image of him fades and flickers out. 

    "Akimiya? Akimiya!" 

    "I'm still here . . ." 

    It's weird, talking to a disembodied voice. I don't like it. I'm so scared, so scared and I just want to go home. But I don't have a home anymore. It's just like when Muraki stole Tsuzuki from me, only much, much worse. But Akimiya doesn't need to know that I plan on dying as soon as I get out of Hell. 

    "Now what?" I ask him. 

    "I don't know," he admits. "Have you figured out what that dream means? I had it again last night." 

    "I'm not sure . . ." Tsuzuki and I on opposite sides of a door. A metaphor, maybe? For what's happened between us now? I don't know. Purple eyes glowing red . . . that makes me think of Ryuushi, but I just can't be certain of anything anymore. 

    Where is Muraki, anyway? 

    "I can barely hear you . . . I'm going to go unless there's anything else you need, okay?" 

    "That's fine," I whisper. 

    And he's gone, just like that. 

~~~~ 

    I can't sleep. 

    Locked away, alone in my little cell. 

    It reminds me of when I was a child. Locked away all alone, with no visitors, only my parents occasionally coming down for food. Looking at me like a monster. My mother ashamed of having given birth to me, denying that I was her son. 

    _// "what a scary boy, it's like he's reading my thoughts . . . like a demon child . . ." // _

    I am not a demon. 

    But Tsuzuki is. 

    And . . . I can't accept it. I can't even believe it, no matter how much sense it makes. I just can't believe that he was lying this whole time. I just can't find any way for it to not be true. 

    _// "you're not my son! I didn't give birth to a monster like you!" // _

    I have no more tears left. 

    I wonder what Heaven is like . . . because it's supposed to be happiness, peace. Yet I don't think I can be happy without Tsuzuki. At least, without Tsuzuki as I knew him. So how does it work? Do I just forget all about him when I get there? 

    Does it erase this pain? 

    Can it? 

    I might almost welcome that. 

    I came so far, damn it. I did so much. I survived my own death and found happiness. I fought for it. I fought so hard. I beat my own fear and doubt and learned to accept myself and Tsuzuki's love. I overcame all of Tsuzuki's objections. I fought my own worst nightmare and won, for Tsuzuki's sake. I made it through all the levels of Hell for him. 

    For this. 

    Tsuzuki was the one who convinced me that I was worth something, convinced me that I was worth being loved. 

    Without that, what do I have left? 

    I'm coming to the conclusion now that I will always love him, even though he never loved me. Or at least, I'll always love the Tsuzuki that was mine. He never existed, but I'll continue to be in love with him. 

    I just want this to be over. 

    I need a plan. A plan of some sort. There must be some way to stop this from happening. I'm not sure there's anything I can do to stop Tsuzuki. I don't even know how to get out of Hell, and even though I've warned Akimiya, I don't think that'll be enough. I don't think they can stop Ryuushi and Tsuzuki, not together. There's so much power there that it crackles in the air. 

    Is there any way that I can do this? 

    Just like being a child. Locked away and helpless. Disdained and reviled. Alone and unloved. Even the cell looks the same. 

    This is what love has reduced me to. 

    Damn it, I came so far . . . 

    All the way back to where I started. 

~~~~ 


	10. Chapter Nine

_It might be a long while before the next chapter, to be fair. I've had the worst case of Writer's Block ever, and I'm too busy for much writing anyway. This chapter doesn't have too terrible a cliffhanger, so you'll all have to live with it. ^^_

Chapter Nine 

    It's late -- very late, probably almost three in the morning -- when a demon opens my cell door. He doesn't say anything, just grabs me by the arm and pulls me up. I don't ask where we're going. What the hell do I care, anyway? 

    The room he shoves me into is easily as posh as the throne room, and decorated in a similar style, but it's obviously a bedroom. Maybe I'm guessing that from the huge bed in the middle of the room. Covered with blood red sheets. Tsuzuki is lounging in the middle, in that painfully familiar pose where he's lying on his stomach with his knees bent so his legs are up the air, his chin leaning against his hands. Deceptively cute. Well, deceptively in this case anyway. 

    "Leave us," he says to the guard demon with a wave of his hand and a cruel smile. The guard nods, gives a slight bow, and leaves the room. 

    "What do you want?" I ask shortly. "I was trying to sleep." 

    He stands up and walks briskly over to me, cupping my face in his hands. And there's . . . there's something . . . 

    The link with him reopens and I'm nearly knocked over by the tidal wave of emotion that washes over me. All that love and desperate guilt . . . 

    No. No. I let him fool me once and I won't do it again. 

    "GET AWAY FROM ME!" I shove him backwards, nearly making him go sprawling. There's a horrible wounded look in his eyes, and it makes me feel even worse. "DON'T TOUCH ME!" 

    "Hisoka, I'm sorry," he says, trying to meet my gaze. I won't let him. I won't look at him, I won't believe him, I won't! "I'm sorry I had to do that, I had to so Ryuushi wouldn't kill you, I . . ." 

    "No!" I shove him again as he tries to come over to me. "I won't let you just trick me again! What, is he waiting behind the curtain to laugh at me again? You can manipulate my empathy, I know that now! Just leave me alone!" 

    "Hisoka, that isn't it!" Tsuzuki reaches out and grabs my hand. "If you don't believe me, then look!" 

    He drops his shields to me, leaving every corner of his mind open for my exploration. I dig into it without even a thought for how much pain it might cause him, going deeper and deeper, looking at everything to make sure there's nothing that he's hiding from me. Only when it's all spread out before me can I manage to believe him. 

    "Tsu . . . Tsuzuki . . ." 

    He wraps me in an embrace and pours love into me, love and reassurance and comfort. I can only cling to him, sobbing with the sheer force of my relief. He pulls me over to the bed and sits down on it, pulling me up next to him and cradling me in his arms. 

    "I thought . . ." Great, now I'm babbling. Fortunately, I have enough sense to snap an empathic shield up around us so random passersby won't feel this. I can feel the pain seeping through the bond and I know that I must have hurt him with what I just did. "God, I thought that . . ." 

    "Shhhh." He just hugs me tighter. "I know." 

    It takes a long time, but I finally manage to pull myself together and rest my head on his shoulder, sniffling. He keeps hugging me, keeps reassuring me through the bond. The pain is fading now. "I'm sorry," he finally chokes out, and now he's crying. "I had to. I didn't want to. God, the look in your eyes nearly killed me . . ." 

    Now that I'm thinking a little clearer, I realize how hard this must have been on him. Maybe even harder than it was on me. But I still have to know. "Why?" 

    He lies down slowly, pulling me with him so I'm held safely against his chest. "You want the long version or the short version?" 

    "I already got the short version. I'd prefer the long, but how long do we have?" 

    "A couple hours, at least," he says, his breath stirring my hair. "I told Ryuushi that I was going to . . ." His voice cracks slightly. "Going to discipline you, to show you who was in charge. And not to let anyone bother me." 

    "Oh." I snuggle closer. "Okay. Long version, then?" 

    "I've only just remembered a lot of it in the past few days," he says. "Like first meeting Ryuushi." Interesting to note that when he's not nearby, he doesn't call him 'tousan anymore. "That was . . . that was awful. It was an accident. I-I didn't want to hurt anyone." 

    I frown. "I know that you were lying in the throne room now, but how do you explain that? If Ryuushi was teaching you . . ." 

    "He was." Tsuzuki's voice is faint. "When I first met him, I had a rather similar reaction to what happened when I met him this time. I was too shocked to react. And he . . . he took over my mind, forced the information on me. I suppose it was sort of like teaching. But I couldn't handle it. All the power leaked out and . . . well . . . you know the rest, I guess." 

    "So this?" I ask quietly. "What happened after you left?" 

    "I let Ryuushi tow me along for a bit. I was so . . . in so much shock that I couldn't react." His hands stroke through my hair and down my back as he talks, sending little shivers through me. "But after a while, I started thinking again. By then, we were in Hell." 

    I shudder slightly, thinking of what it would be like to wake up in this place. "Did he bring you down to the last level?" 

    "No," Tsuzuki says. "That's the trick. Since I'm only half-demon, I had to descend through the levels like you did. I was all right until the fourth . . . Ryuushi was explaining to me how to get through them. The problem is that Ryuushi explained to me that the only way to get from four to five was to accept that there was no way to do it. It's quite a trick." 

    "Mental acrobatics," I say with a smile, and wiggle up a little so my head is resting in the crook of his shoulder. Funny how now that I'm with him again, I feel like I could conquer the world. 

    "Exactly," Tsuzuki says with a slight smile. "While we were stuck there, he started explaining his whole plan to me. Somewhere around there, I realized that I didn't know how to get out of Hell. I figured that in order to get him to tell me, I would play along. So I started being enthusiastic about his plans, telling him about . . . about what EnmaDaiOh had done to me and stuff like that." 

    There's a slight pause. My body rises and falls with his breathing. I forgot how much I love to lie and listen to him breathe. "He liked that," Tsuzuki continues, softly. "He got really happy. He started talking about how great it would be when we ruled everything, and how he would let me have the Meifu and anything else I wanted." 

    "So what about me?" I ask, reaching out for his hand and twining my fingers through his. 

    "That was when he asked about you," Tsuzuki confirms with a nod. "He said he hoped I could offer an explanation, because he didn't want to think I was in love or anything. Then I just . . . I just came up with what I told you the other day. I told him that, and he thought it was hilarious. 

    "But then I realized that you were going to be here soon," he says. "Because I knew you'd come for me." I feel a wave of love and something that I'm not sure I've ever felt from him. Confidence. "I knew you'd come," he repeats, and hugs me tighter. "Part of me wishes that you hadn't, but still . . . I'm glad you're with me." 

    I smile. "I'm glad I'm with you too." 

    "When I realized that . . . that I would have to put on a show for you like that, I nearly . . . nearly couldn't do it. But I knew I had to. If we can just fool him for a few more days, we can get out of here." 

    "And what's your plan after that?" I ask skeptically. 

    "I don't know," he admits. "But getting out of Hell is kind of my top priority at the moment." 

    I can't help but laugh. 

    "Tell me what happened to you?" he requests gently. 

    So I tell him about talking to Tatsumi and Akimiya and what they said, tell him about my (in retrospect totally rash) decision to come to Hell and what immediately followed. 

    He bursts into laughter. "You brought Muraki with you?" 

    I nod. 

    He sobers up instantly. "That will cause a problem when he gets here, though . . . how am I going to explain that? Well . . . I'll think of something. Go on. Why isn't he here now?" 

    The story of the first and second levels is pretty easy to tell. Tsuzuki seems to find my hasty partnership with Muraki pretty amusing. The third level isn't bad, but I leave out the twenty-second room. Someday I'll tell him . . . but not today. All the horror that has happened is bad enough. 

    He listens to the tale of the fourth level and Saki in interest, especially my conclusions about Muraki. Apparently he's not up for a philosophical debate, though, because he sits in silence while I finish the story. 

    "I'm so sorry," he says when it's over. "So sorry that you had to go through all this . . . for me. I don't deserve this much . . . I'm . . ." 

    "Shh," I say. "Don't talk like that. You know that I'd do anything for you." 

    "I know." His fingers comb through my hair. "I missed you so much." 

    "All I could think about was you." Who cares if I'm being sappy. I certainly don't, and it's making Tsuzuki glow with pleasure. "That's what kept me going. Thinking of finding you." 

    He puts his hands on my arms and lifts me upwards a little, enough so we can be face to face. "I love you. I swear I do." 

    "Tell me again." It's not that I don't believe him. I just want to hear it again. 

    "I love you. I love you so much." 

    "I know." I lower my lips to his. He kisses me back, deeply, and little waves of euphoria wash over me. All that love flooding into my mind, it's an unbelievable rush. 

    There's a sudden spike of cold, just outside the realm of my senses. 

    Tsuzuki pulls away. "I swear, we'll get out of this somehow, and . . ." 

    I press my finger over his lips. He sees the look in my eyes and stops talking immediately. 

    I'm so tightly bound with him at the moment that I can talk to him, and it won't be heard outside the empathic shield I have stretched around us. Better to keep it simple. _Ryuushi. Coming. _

    Tsuzuki's eyes widen fractionally. He doesn't move. 

    _Here._ I can feel the coldness outside the door. _Listening. _

    Tsuzuki blinks at me, then sick resignation appears in his eyes as he realizes what we're going to have to do. Then the blank mask returns to his face, and the coldness returns to the link. I slowly -- very slowly, so Ryuushi won't notice -- melt the empathic shield around us. 

    Then I close my eyes and gather what little acting skills I have, letting out a pain-filled cry that I hope is at least somewhat authentic. Tsuzuki is just staring at me, not knowing how to pull this off. I pull my shirt over my head and toss it onto the floor, then squirm over him so I'm lying on my back on the bed. 

    I gesture to him and he climbs on top of me, positioning himself so one of his knees is between my legs. He's still wearing the kimono, so I don't have to worry about doing anything with his clothes. I reach down and, for good measure, unbutton my pants. Tsuzuki makes a pained face, but doesn't object. Then I cry out again. "No, please don't . . ." 

    Ryuushi knocks on the door. Tsuzuki doesn't answer, leaning down to kiss me gently. Without the link between us, it feels strange. I'm so used to it by now. There's another knock, then the door opens and Ryuushi walks in. 

    Tsuzuki looks up from where he's draped on top of me, and I try to assume an appropriately terrified expression. "I'm busy," he says coldly. 

    Ryuushi smirks. "So I see." 

    "What do you want?" Tsuzuki asks, and gives my arm where he's holding it a tight squeeze. I can't hold back a yelp. "I didn't want to be disturbed." 

    "Just letting you know that your friend Muraki got here," Ryuushi says. "I had him shown to a room and told him that you'd see him in the morning. Since it is rather late, you know." 

    "I know," Tsuzuki says with a shrug. "That's fine. I'll see him then." 

    I wish he could go see him now, but that would be too suspicious. I know that Ryuushi is baiting him, still trying to catch him slipping up. He doesn't quite trust him. 

    He just smiles. "See you tomorrow, then." 

    Tsuzuki nods. There's silence while Ryuushi leaves and the door shuts, and I let out another yell right after he's gone, letting him believe that Tsuzuki got back to business. The coldness fades out of my senses slowly, until it's finally gone. 

    "He's gone," I whisper, and Tsuzuki practically collapses on top of me in relief. 

    "We'll have to hope that Muraki has enough sense to play along tomorrow," he murmurs. 

    I nod. "You know what Ryuushi is going to do, right?" Tsuzuki gives me a blank look. "He's trying to catch you in your lie, Tsuzuki." Pause, deep breath. "He's going to hurt me. And he's going to make you watch. He might even make you hurt me yourself." 

    "But -- " Tsuzuki starts to protest. 

    "No, Tsuzuki." I give him a brief kiss. "This is the only chance we've got. We have to make him believe. Do whatever it takes to make this real. Do you hear me? Whatever it takes." 

    "You can say that now," he says shakily. "What about tomorrow?" 

    "I'll have to say it tomorrow, too." 

    He meets my eyes, and holds my gaze for a long second. Then he slowly nods. "All right." 

    "How long until we leave?" I whisper. 

    "I don't know," he says. "A few days maybe. I don't think more than that. We'll be okay. I swear, somehow we'll be okay." 

    I nod. Then smile up at him. "Now, from the looks of where you are, we were in the middle of something . . ." 

    He manages a smile back. "We weren't." 

    "We could be." I wrap my arms around his neck. "I missed you." 

    He presses his forehead against mine. "I missed you too." 

~~~~ 

    Tsuzuki shakes me awake, which is pretty bad for him because I swat at him before I manage to wake up. "What time is it?" I finally ask sleepily. 

    He shrugs. "There's no real time here," he said. "But we've been here long enough. If I don't return you to . . . to . . ." 

    "My cell?" I prompt. 

    He pales slightly, then nods. "Aa . . . if I don't, Ryuushi might get suspicious. So we'd better get going before everyone's up and about." 

    I nod and crawl out from underneath the covers. It only takes a few moments to locate my clothes and pull them back on. Tsuzuki already got dressed; he must have wanted to let me sleep as long as possible. "One last thing," Tsuzuki says, and holds his left hand up. I hadn't noticed, but he's wearing the wedding ring again. "When I'm wearing this, it means I'm me, and it's okay to act normal. If I'm not, I'm . . . that other me." 

    I nod. "That's a good idea, to have a signal like that." Pause. "What are we going to do about Muraki?" 

    "I'm not sure," he says wearily. "You'll probably be with me in the court room today -- Ryuushi seems to be rather amused by that. Let's just hope that Muraki will have enough sense to play along with the way we're acting." 

    I can only manage a nod. Tsuzuki takes the ring off his finger and drags me back to my cell. 

~~~~ 

    You know, I'm glad I didn't live back in the ages when royalty determined everything. I think I would've gone crazy. All the fawning and the subservience is starting to get to me. Watching demon after demon come up to make their requests of Ryuushi. Maybe it's worse just because I hate him so much. 

    After the first hour, I'm frozen over anyway. It doesn't matter quite as much anymore. It's right around then that Muraki finally makes his appearance. Someone, probably Ryuushi, gave him one of the kimonos with red trim. It's very odd to see Muraki in something besides his everpresent suit. He doesn't look too comfortable with it either. 

    I can see him looking around, taking in the surroundings the same way that I did. Adding it all up to come to a conclusion -- some conclusion. Ryuushi is sitting on his throne, and Tsuzuki has a seat at his right side. I'm cringing at Tsuzuki's feet, looking appropriately terrified. 

    "Good of you to make it," Tsuzuki says to Muraki, standing up and greeting the man with a smile that looks genuine. "I told 'tousan that you would." 

    There's a split second of confusion in Muraki's visible eye, but it's gone before anyone besides me notices. "I would hate to let you down, Tsuzuki-san," he says. I wish he'd get the irony out of his voice. His eyes dart to me quickly and I give him a pleading look. Please, please, have enough sense to play along. 

    Fortunately, Muraki doesn't like me. His smile widens slightly and he says, "I see you're finally giving the boy the attention he deserves." 

    Tsuzuki's smile goes thin for an instant before he laughs. I snarl silently at Muraki, now annoyed. He just laughs at me. "Everything's gone perfectly," Tsuzuki says, now sounding excited. "I'll have to fill you in on all the details later." 

    I see a glint of understanding in Muraki's eye, and he nods complacently. 

    "Want to help me destroy the world?" Tsuzuki asks, his eyes wide with innocence. 

    "I couldn't imagine a more worthwhile pasttime," Muraki says dryly. 

    Tsuzuki coughs slightly and turns to Ryuushi. "You get used to his sarcasm after a while," he murmurs. Ryuushi snorts, amused. 

    So, disaster averted for the moment. Now what? Now we sit here for a little while longer. I'm practically falling asleep. After a while, one of the demons drags me back to my cells. I see Tsuzuki going off with Muraki. Presumably he'll explain what's going on to him. 

    It isn't long at all before Ryuushi shows up at my door again. Tsuzuki is behind him, looking displeased with the situation. I suppose they've come to torture me. One would think, given everything I've been through, I'll be able to take whatever they do to me. Yeah, right. It probably gets a lot worse when it's someone you care about doing the actual torture. 

    Tsuzuki walks into the cell. "Hello, Hisoka," he said, with a little smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. He reaches up with one hand and caresses my cheek. I can't help but flinch away. "Do you know why we're here?" 

    "So you and this bastard can get an afternoon's entertainment, or so I would presume," I snap. I can feel my heart beating wildly in my chest, wondering what they're going to do to me. What they can do to me. Physical wounds hurt, yes, but only for a few seconds. They heal instantly. 

    "Can I go first?" Ryuushi asks, an innocent look in his eyes. "I'm hungry . . ." 

    I shudder. Tsuzuki just shrugs, looking bored and indifferent, and takes a few steps backwards. Ryuushi walks up to me and extends his hand. One of his fingers trails down my neck, leaving a bleeding welt in its path. That pain from earlier returns, enough to take my breath away -- 

    I don't know how long it goes on, but I know I'm screaming by the time it's over. 

    When Ryuushi finally backs away, I'm left breathless and exhausted, slumped on the floor of the cell. I can barely keep the world in focus, I'm so dizzy. Tsuzuki is just leaning against the wall, still not looking as if he gives a damn. I've never seen anyone look so bored about someone else being tortured. 

    "Your turn, Tsuzuki," Ryuushi says. 

    "I'm thinking," Tsuzuki replies coldly. 

    Thinking about what he can bring himself to do to me, I bet. Try not to think about it. Really really trying not to think about this. Really scared out of my mind right about now. 

    "'Tousan," Tsuzuki says reflectively, "since I'm half blood demon, would I be able to do that too?" 

    Ryuushi shrugs. "Not much for originality, are you?" 

    "I was just curious," Tsuzuki replies, sounding sullen. 

    "Yes, you would be able to do it," Ryuushi says. "But a lot of the energy would be lost in the transfer. It isn't really worth it unless you're extremely weak and need the energy badly. And I'm not sure how that would interact with you being a Shinigami, either." 

    "Good to know," Tsuzuki says, and steps up to me. He carefully places five ofuda on the floor around me, in the shape of a pentagram. 

    It feels like the air around me is squeezing me inwards. Like I'm being compressed into the smallest amount of space possible. It's the weirdest sensation I've ever felt. It doesn't hurt, not at first -- and then suddenly it does, as I'm compressed too much. I can hear myself screaming, but my voice sounds funny. High-pitched and squeaking. Ryuushi is laughing his ass off. I have to hand it to Tsuzuki; he thought of something perfect. If Ryuushi finds it amusing, it won't matter that it's not the most painful thing in the world. 

    When everything is finally over, all I can do is lie there on the floor. I'm disoriented and dizzy. I can't tell where my body stops anymore. It's so weird. 

    "We'll be back later," Ryuushi assures me. Then he turns and leaves the room. 

    Tsuzuki leans down and briefly squeezes my hand. "We're leaving tomorrow," he whispers, and then he also leaves. 

~~~~ 

    Something's tugging at the back of my brain. Something important that I can barely see or hear. Straining towards it, but it feels so far away. Important. Have I forgotten something? No, I don't think that's it. But it has to be something. 

    "Hisoka?" 

    Shake myself awake. No, not awake. The voice is Akimiya's. 

    "I can barely hear you," I tell him. 

    "I know, I can't even see you at all," he replies. His image wavers in and out for a second, and then is gone completely. "Has anything happened?" 

    "Not really," I say. "But Tsuzuki told me that we leave tomorrow. To, you know, take over or conquer or whatever." 

    "So you're still going?" Akimiya asks, and he sounds confused. 

    "Yeah," I say, and hasten to explain this. "We don't know how to get out, so we're playing along until we know where the exit is. I think Tsuzuki's going to try to stop Ryuushi once we get out, but all the same, you guys had better be ready." 

    "Oh, we will be," Akimiya says. 

    "Are you scared?" I ask him. 

    "Yeah, a little. You?" 

    "Terrified," I admit. "Tsuzuki's had to do some weird stuff to get his father to believe that he's on his side. It's been a really rough few days." 

    "I can imagine," Akimiya says. I want to tell him that he can't, that he only thinks he can, but refrain. It's the thought that counts after all. "But you'll be home soon, won't you?" 

    "Home?" I asked, and I'm sure I sound a bit snappish. "What home? We'll get out of Hell, maybe, if we're damned lucky. And then what? Then we go back to living on the run, being hunted down. Maybe we'll just turn ourselves in and go to Heaven. It's what Tsuzuki deserves after all this." 

    "I'd miss you," Akimiya says softly. 

    "I know, but . . ." I rub my eyes. "But what's the point? I'm tired of all this! Now I understood what Tsuzuki said in Kyoto. I wanted him to live and all he said was that he didn't belong here anymore . . . that he was . . . so tired . . ." 

    "Stop it!" Akimiya yells, and for a minute he flares into vision. I get the feeling he would be slapping me across the face if we were in the same dimension. 

    "You don't understand!" 

    "YES I DO!" The image of him stays this time and he looks furious. "Don't you think I was ready to just give up and die when Muraki took Rika-chan? I did, but I couldn't! Yes, some really awful things have happened to you! To both of you! But you've never just laid down and taken it before and there's no damn reason that you should now!" 

    I want to cry, but instead I'm just blinking. "Oh," I finally manage. 

    "Thank you," he snaps. 

    "But what are we going to do?" I finally asked. "When it's done? When we're out of Hell?" 

    "Whatever you have to," he replies. 

    And after a minute, I nod. 

~~~~ 


	11. Chapter Ten

_Um... just don't kill me. Though I suppose since no one has yet, I shouldn't worry._

Chapter Ten 

    When Tsuzuki comes to get me the next morning, he's wearing his ring on his left hand. I can't help but breathe a sigh of relief. "Hi," I say. "How long do we have?" 

    "Only a few minutes," Tsuzuki says. "Ryuushi sent me down to get you. We're leaving." 

    "Did you explain everything to Muraki?" 

    "Yeah," he says. "He said he'd play along for now. God only knows what's going to happen once we get out of here. He seems . . . really strange, though." Tsuzuki extends his hand and helps me to my feet. "Different from the way he usually is." 

    "I'm not surprised. I don't know what happened with Saki, but . . ." 

    Tsuzuki frowns, then lets out a slight sigh. "Yeah. I don't suppose we'll get a chance to ask any time soon, either. Let's get going." 

    "How long do you think it'll take to reach the exit?" I ask. 

    "I don't know," he says. "Ryuushi said a day or two's walk, but he still hasn't told me how to get there." 

    "Great," I mutter. "All this and he still doesn't trust you." 

    "There's not much we can do about it," Tsuzuki says, leading me out of the cell. "It's not even worth worrying about." He slides the ring off his finger and into his pocket. Then he takes me by the arm and pulls me along the hallway, not bothering to show any respect for my shorter legs. 

    Well, I always wanted to know what an army of Hell would look like. (Not really. But it sounds good.) Demons of every shape and size are gathered in the court hall. Tsuzuki has to shield me from a lot of them who seem to think that I'd make a really tasty snack. 

    "Outside," he murmurs to me, and pulls me out the huge doors. Funny, I had never really noticed them before. They're huge, carved patterns in obsidian. The light from the torches reflects off them. 

    The outside looks remarkably like the first level, except it's quieter. There are no shrieking damned souls, no rivers of lava, no bursts of fire. Just cold black rock and no light except an eerie glow that seems to emanate from the ground itself. The rest of the demon army is gathered here, and it's huge. It literally stretches further than I can see. 

    I can feel my stomach grow cold and I wish that there was some way I could get hold of Akimiya. Warn him that there's no way they can be prepared for this. But what good would it do? There's no point in scaring them unduly. Tsuzuki and I will just have to figure something out. 

    Tsuzuki is apparently also surprised at the sheer mass of the army. His eyes are nearly falling out of his head. There's a hint of panic in him, and I sure hope he locks it down before -- 

    "Impressive, isn't it," a cold voice drawls. For a minute I'm terrified that it's Ryuushi, but there was no freezing feeling first. After a second, my brain clicks into gear and I recognize the voice as Muraki's. 

    "I suppose you can put it that way," Tsuzuki muses softly. 

    Muraki glances around long enough to confirm that no one nearby is listening to us. "I hope your Shinigami friends are prepared." 

    Tsuzuki looks worried and glances at me. 

    "I've been talking to Akimiya," I say quietly. "But there's no way they'll be prepared for this." 

    "Ah, well." Muraki sounds as if he doesn't care in the slightest. He simply takes out a cigarette and lights it up. I prod cautiously at his mind, but don't feel anything beneath his words. He honestly doesn't care at all if the world is destroyed. 

    Without purpose. That's what he is now. He has no reason to exist any longer. 

    I have a sudden mental image of, if I get out of this, having to go to Oriya and explain. I would. I don't think it would really be right to just leave him hanging. But I don't relish being the bearer of the news if Muraki actually dies here. 

    We make our way to the head of the army. Tsuzuki still has a firm grip on my wrist, as if to prevent my escape. Ryuushi is standing there, looking damn near ethereal in his black kimono and black wings. His eyes are glittering brightly in the torchlight with bloodlust. I can't hold back a shiver. 

    "So where will this journey take us, 'tousan?" Tsuzuki asks casually, as we start to walk across the barren plain. I don't see any ceiling, but neither do I see a sky. There is no horizon, not really. 

    "Mostly just across the plains, for about a day," Ryuushi answers. "Then we reach the Arechi no Shisou." 

    Tsuzuki frowns. "What's that?" I second the question. I don't like the sound of that at all. 

    "I'll explain it once we get there," Ryuushi says offhandedly. "For now, we just have to walk. We should probably talk battle strategy, ne?" His smile grows more pronounced, and a bit more evil. "I want to know everything that you know about the other Shinigami. What kind of defenses can we expect?" He glances around. "Not that I'm worried, mind, not with this army behind us. But it's always good to be prepared." 

    "Don't see why you would be, anyway," Tsuzuki says, sounding a cranky and pulling me along a bit more roughly than I appreciate. "I already told you that I'm the strongest of the Shinigami. And I don't know them all anyway. There are divisions that I never worked in." 

    "Well, do you think they'll know we're coming?" 

    "They . . . might," Tsuzuki says reluctantly. "One of the Shinigami in our division, Sakamoto Akimiya, is a yumemi." I start to panic, thinking he's going to say that I've probably been contacting to him, then he speaks again. "Sometimes he has prophetic dreams, usually if it's something big that will affect everyone. So he may have seen this coming, yes." 

    That was actually fairly smart of Tsuzuki. Ryuushi would have wondered why the Shinigami were waiting for them, and this will explain it. 

    "Any other large threats?" 

    Tsuzuki shrugs slightly. "Just Tatsumi, I guess." He's right; though the other Shinigami are cool, they're not that cool compared to Tatsumi. He's the only one who would do well standing up to demons. Hell, Akimiya still can't even do 'jitsu very well. "He's a Kagetsukai." 

    "Ahh, interesting," Ryuushi says. "What's he look like? We'll have to try to take him out first." 

    Tsuzuki, to his credit, doesn't hesitate. "He's older than me by quite a bit, somewhere in his forties, I'd guess. Black hair and sort of darkish skin. He's very striking; you'll know him when you see him." 

    Ryuushi nods, apparently making a mental note of this fact. I continue to get dragged along. Muraki continues to walk, apparently oblivious to our surroundings. I wonder what he's thinking, but there's no way that I can check. 

    Walk, walk, walk. It's just like going through Hell in the first place, only seriously more boring. Well, some of the demons keep giving me speculative glances. I'm starting to think I have a sign on my back that says 'fresh meat here'. And then one on my front that says 'property of Tsuzuki -- molest at your own risk.' They keep trying to get close to me, then backing away. 

    So I just trudge along, keep to my own thoughts, listen to Tsuzuki and Ryuushi discuss strategy. Tsuzuki's giving him real, helpful information about half the time. I suppose he's starting to wonder what it really matters. Everything he's lying about is in order to protect our friends. 

    Two days until we leave Hell. But I can't just wait until we're out and then resign myself to death now. Not with the entire world at stake. 

~~~~ 

    Walking all day doesn't really give me much trouble, since sore feet isn't really something that plagues Shinigami. I don't have anything to think about, so my mind continues to wander as we walk. Wondering what we'll do once we're free. Whatever we have to, Akimiya said. 

    But what kind of life can possibly wait for us? Even if there is a way to hide, like Muraki had promised us, I'd miss my friends. Somehow, contact in dreams really isn't the way I want to live the rest of my life. And even then, that's only Akimiya. We wouldn't really be able to see Tatsumi. 

    I feel more bad for him than I do for me. I remember when Tsuzuki was gone, how depressed Tatsumi was. Without him, Tatsumi really doesn't have anyone. 

    Okay. Not crying. Not crying. Shit. I'm crying. 

    Unfortunately for me, Ryuushi spots me as I'm wiping the tears off my cheeks. "Aw, how cute," he says. "Poor little Hisoka, dragged along with us. Doesn't it just make you want to . . . cry?" He reaches out with one hand and brushes the tear off my cheek. 

    Flinch away. Resist the urge to hiss and spit at him like a cat. 

    Actually, maybe I shouldn't resist. I mean, come on, the image. 

    So I spit in Ryuushi's face. 

    There's a long moment of silence from nearly everyone while Ryuushi slowly drags one hand over his face and then shakes it. Tsuzuki is watching in very carefully concealed panic that looks like mild interest. I hear Muraki let out a low chuckle. Bastard never did like me. Why didn't I ever think to spit in his face? 

    "That," Ryuushi finally says, "was not a wise move." 

    Well, duh. Thanks for the tip, Captain Obvious. 

    "Oh yeah," I say lightly. "Because your opinion of me is already so stellar, and just matters so much to me anyway." 

    Ryuushi grabs me by the throat and holds me so my feet are dangling several feet above the ground. Oh, excellent. See what my big mouth has gotten me into this time. When will I learn to just shut up? 

    "'Tousan," Tsuzuki says quietly, with a soft, cruel smile. "Let me." 

    Ryuushi raises an eyebrow at him, but then tosses me to Tsuzuki like I don't weigh more than the sum of my clothing. Or at this moment, my brain cells. I seem to be severely lacking in them. 

    "What are you going to do with him, Asato-kun?" Ryuushi asks curiously. 

    Tsuzuki just keeps smiling at me. And then does perhaps the worst thing possible. 

    He gets a hand around my arm, and shoves me over to Muraki. "I'll let Muraki here deal with him. Ne, sensei?" 

    No, no, no. This is not in the plan, I'm not having sex with Muraki, I don't care who we're trying to fool. 

    "That's quite good," Ryuushi murmurs, so low that I'm not sure anyone else can hear him. "Give the boy to who he's most afraid of." 

    I'll admit that I'm shaking in my shoes, so close to Muraki. Even knowing that he's technically on our side now, I wouldn't put it past him to hurt me just because he's got the excuse. Whether or not we're uneasy allies in this, he still hates me. 

    Or does he? When I try to extend my empathy to him, I still just feel . . . nothing. 

    Even when he pulls me into a kiss. 

    I let out a muffled squeak and try to punch him, but he grabs my arm and twists it around my back. I hear Ryuushi laugh. Bastard obviously finds this all quite amusing, whereas my heart is doing a tapdance in my chest. You live in happiness and safety for a few months and you nearly forget what your rapist and killer can do to you. 

    Yeah, right. 

    I can't manage to get free, not matter how valiantly I struggle, so I'm forced to go limp to contain the amount of damage. Please tell me that Muraki isn't so much of an exhibitionist that he'll try to rape me right in front of the entire demon army. Oh God. And please, please tell me that Tsuzuki would find some way to stop him if he did. 

    He twists my arm up higher, and I have a vague sinking feeling about my earlier theory. He wants to hurt me. So why can I still not feel anything from him? It's like he's detached, not really all there. And why am I thinking about it while he's groping me? Oh GOD I want out of this -- 

    But my curiosity (which always gets the better of me, though you'd think I'd know better by now) prevails, and I let my shields down just an inch -- 

    in such close contact with him that that's all it takes -- 

    _//SAKI!// _

    I let out a shrill shriek which is totally involuntary, but which Ryuushi apparently thinks is coming from something Muraki is doing. Which it is, I suppose, but not on purpose. But I can hear Ryuushi's laugh. It's all very dull and distant, like it's coming through twenty feet of water. I'm wrapped up in Muraki's mind, Muraki's memories. 

    _//Don't you dare run away from me, you bastard!//_

and a taunting, mocking laugh 

        Darkness surrounding me (not me, not me, it's Muraki, must remember that it's not me) on all sides and I just can't see -- 

  
  


  


    a hopeless feeling of despair creeping throughout me 

(NOT ME) 

  
  
  


    thud onto cold stone marble and a sense of failure, dismal failure, knowing that the last goal was unable to be completed, the only reason for living was unattainable all this time 

    _//saki//_

no. __

        //I couldn't . . .// 

NO  
    _//kill you//_

    And I'm screaming and screaming and can't stop screaming. 

    Muraki throws me away from him and I land like (well, like a broken doll) a lump, my arm twisted beneath me. I manage to haul myself into a sitting position and shake it out so it's straight again. I can't help but breathe a sigh of relief as the bones heal back into place. 

    Tsuzuki is looking vaguely surprised; I can tell he's wondering what Muraki did to me that got such a reaction. Ryuushi, of course, looks delighted. I can tell that Muraki is confused (never thought I'd be glad to feel his emotions again, that's for damn sure), but he's hiding it very well. He's probably just as shaken by what happened as I am. 

    So he didn't manage to kill Saki after all. No wonder he's been depressed. 

    Why the hell do I care? 

~~~~ 

    "Well, here we are. We're stopping for the night." 

    I nearly collapse with relief. As it is, I carefully lower myself to the ground. Every inch of my body aches, and I didn't even know that was possible. The landscape hasn't changed, except ahead of us is what appears to be a bank of fog. 

    "Where are we?" Tsuzuki asks, stretching slightly. 

    "That," Ryuushi says, pointing at the fog, "is the Arechi no Shisou. It'll take us at least a day to get through . . . maybe more. That's why we're stopping. It's hard to traverse, even for a demon." 

    I look around. True to Ryuushi's word, most of the demons are giving the fog strange looks. The more powerful just look uneasy, but the majority of the demon army is quaking in its metaphorical boots. I'd feel better, but what does that mean for how it's going to go for me? 

    As if he's reading my thoughts (and who knows), Ryuushi's glance flicks over to me and Muraki. "Of course," he says, with a slow smile, "they'll have to stay here, I think." 

    "Hm?" Tsuzuki, quite admirably, manages to not show concern. "Why?" 

    "Well," Ryuushi says, his eyes lingering thoughtfully on the fog, "I'm not sure mortal spirits can go through Arechi no Shisou. It's designed to keep the souls of the damned in. Can't have them getting out; that would sort of defeat the purpose, ne?" 

    I have to admit he's got a point. Looks like Tsuzuki's reluctantly admitting it too. 

    "So I don't know," Ryuushi said. "Of course, it's never been tried to have a Shinigami go through it. It's possible that he could, but I think it makes far more sense for him to just remain behind. As for your friend . . ." He gives Muraki a long, speculative glance. "It's too bad. I rather wanted his firepower on our side. But again, a mortal -- a living one at that -- that's never been tried either." 

    "So it's possible," Tsuzuki says, wanting to be clear on that point. 

    "Possible, yes," Ryuushi replies with a shrug. "But why take the risk? They'll be here when we get back." 

    "But why'd you make them march all the way out with us?" Tsuzuki asks, sounding a bit annoyed. "We've had to put up with his whining all this way, and for what? To send them back? They probably won't be able to find their way." 

    Ryuushi shrugs, obviously not caring. "I thought they might like the scenery." 

    Tsuzuki makes a disgusted noise in the back of his throat and walks off. 

    Ryuushi turns to me and gives me a little smile. "Do you know why I brought you?" 

    Keep my eyes fixed, straight ahead. "Entertainment value?" 

    "No. Try again." He walks over to me so we're standing nose to nose. 

    I can't keep back a smile. "Tsuzuki has no idea how weak you are, does he? Poor little prince of the demons, and he has to pack a lunch to bring." 

    "Shut up." He reaches out and slashes my cheek open. As with the other two times, the wound doesn't heal immediately. He lets the blood run over his fingers, closing his eyes. I'm used to the steady, draining sensation by now, and manage to stay upright during it. It doesn't hurt as much this time; he's not tapping that inner source. 

    After a minute, I knock his hand away. "Feed on somebody else," I snap. "I'm not your personal walking buffet, all right?" 

    He just laughs. "Of course you are," he says. "Why do you think I didn't have you killed on the spot? You spontaneously regenerate; I can feed off you forever. Using you, I'll build up all my former strength and glory." 

    With that, he walks away, leaving me to stew. Great. Just great. 

    "You should get some sleep," Muraki says, and I jump. I hadn't realized he was behind me. Probably watching the whole damn thing, the bastard. "We've got a long day tomorrow." 

    "Yeah, right," I say bitterly. "You and I aren't going anywhere. We can't go through that." 

    "Oh." Muraki looks at the fog, his eyes not really focusing. 

    "Go away," I say, and sit down, pulling my knees up to my chest and hunching over them. "You don't even care. Meanwhile, I'm going to be stuck in Hell as Ryuushi's personal Happy Meal." 

    He raises an eyebrow at me. "Sarcasm as defense mechanism, Hisoka?" 

    I give him a really good glare that I've been saving up. "Compensation problem, Muraki?" 

    He laughs shortly and walks away. 

~~~~ 

    I fall asleep curled up on the ground, hugging myself to keep warm. Tsuzuki kicks me awake the next morning, which I suppose I'd be mad about if it weren't for the circumstances. I crawl to my feet and look around. The army hasn't really suited up yet, but they're obviously preparing to enter the Arechi no Shisou. 

    I can hear Ryuushi instructing his generals. "Now remember, if we get separated, it's a straight shot to the end. Just follow your instincts and you won't have any problems. The Gatekeeper will open for us with no trouble." 

    Oh, there's a Gatekeeper. Better and better. Not that I'm going to have to deal with him or her, since, you know, I'll be stranded back here. 

    Right, enough with the pointless angsting. It's stupid. 

    Ryuushi calls the army together and starts a nice inspiring speech. Wonderful. I'm guessing it's because so many of them are still giving the fog nervous looks. He goes on a bit about how he and Tsuzuki are going to rule the world. Specifically him ruling Hell and Tsuzuki ruling Chijou and the Meifu. Woo fucking hoo. Pardon my lack of enthusiasm. 

    "Asato-kun," Ryuushi turns to him and gives him a pleasant smile. "There's only one thing you need to do before we get going." 

    I'm not sure I like the sound of that. 

    "You see, last night, several of my generals expressed distrust of your intentions," Ryuushi explains, still keeping his voice loud enough for everyone to hear. There's a general rumble of unease from the troops. "But I thought there's an easy way to prove your loyalty." 

    I really don't like the sound of that. 

    Ryuushi grabs me by the arm and pulls me over, tossing me at Tsuzuki's feet. "Kill him." 

    Tsuzuki only hesitates for a second. "You said I could keep him," he says petulantly, with the air of a child who's been denied a pretty toy. There's no hint of a tremor in his voice. 

    I could have already told him that the best acting job in the world won't get us out of this one. 

    "Oh, I know," Ryuushi says easily. "But I think proving your loyalty is a bit more important, isn't it?" 

    But Ryuushi doesn't want me dead. 

    Which means he already knows Tsuzuki won't do it. 

    And has probably known this entire time. 

    God, it's so obvious, why didn't we see it? Just knowing he was a traitor wasn't enough. Proving it, in front of the entire army -- this army isn't for the Shinigami. This army is for Tsuzuki. Because Ryuushi wouldn't underestimate him a second time. They're going to kill both of us, and I'm honestly not sure I see any way out of it. He's been making us jump through hoops this whole time, "proving" that Tsuzuki doesn't love me. What better kind of torture could there be? 

    Especially now that he's made it clear that it's all been so totally pointless. 

    Muraki glances over, but he barely looks interested. I grind my teeth and wish for the thousandth time that I could talk sense into him. And then wish that I didn't care. 

    "Yes," Tsuzuki says softly. "I suppose it is." 

    I crawl to my feet and lock eyes with him. Try to urge him into doing it, to saving himself. 

    But I already know he won't. 

    "Didn't think you would," Ryuushi says, and smiles. Such a cold smile. Father and son standing face to face at last, and the enmity between them is enough to overcome the chill. 

    I whirl on him. "Coward!" Okay, now it's time for me to sign my own death warrant, apparently. "You knew you couldn't beat him so you teamed up with a whole army?! You're nothing! You don't even have the power to stay alive!" 

    "No," he says, and grabs me by the throat. "But I can get it." 

    His fingers slice over my throat and I know from the sudden shock of pain that he cut it wide open. I can feel blood pouring down my neck, and he's holding his hand over the cut. Laughing. Sucking up all my power 

    draining me so fast that the world is already fading 

    "HISOKA!!" 

    Right about then, all hell breaks loose. 

~~~~ 


	12. Chapter Eleven

_Thanks to Ysabet, who gave me the idea for part of the discussion Muraki and Tsuzuki have in this chapter. I suppose I should've asked. Eheh. _

Oh, and the end of this chapter? No, it's not supposed to make sense yet. 

Chapter Eleven 

    Okay, so maybe all hell breaking loose isn't exactly the right phrase for this situation, but it's damn close. Of course, what the hell do I know? I'm lying face down on the ground with something heavy on top of me. I'm so weak that I can't even move, let alone get whatever it is off me. At least the wound on my throat healed. 

    But what on earth happened? I won't know until I can get up. So I manage to squirm a little and moan. Great. 

    The weight lifts itself off me and I manage to roll over to see Muraki stand up. Right, okay, that makes no sense at all. Why was Muraki lying on top of me? What the bloody blue fuck is -- 

    "Are you okay?" he asks. 

    I shake my head. "Can't move," I manage to say. 

    He gets an arm underneath my shoulders and lifts me up. I finally manage to look around, and . . . wow. The words total devastation leap to mind. I don't see a demon left standing in the entire army. Ryuushi is lying in a crumpled heap about ten feet away. His wings have been shattered. I can see pieces of them lying around. 

    "What the fuck . . .?" 

    Muraki gestures to Tsuzuki. "He panicked and lost control of his powers." 

    Tsuzuki is standing wide-eyed, staring around at the destruction he caused. I don't think the army is all dead, but they certainly aren't going to be giving us any trouble any time soon. And . . . 

    From Tsuzuki's back, there's sprouted a huge pair of black wings. His have feathers, unlike Ryuushi's. His humanity coming through? Maybe. They're black and iridescent, reflecting off the light, and probably the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. 

    "Tsuzuki . . ." I wobble my way towards him. 

    He turns slightly so he sees me, then sinks to his knees. His wings come forward and wrap around him, hiding him from view. 

    "Tsuzuki," I try again. 

    "DON'T LOOK AT ME!" 

    Okay, I look at Muraki instead, sort of a 'what now?' look. He misinterprets it as a 'what happened?' look, which I suppose is another question I want answered, so okay. 

    "When Ryuushi was draining you, Tsuzuki-san screamed your name," Muraki said. "Then those wings just . . . came out of his back. Sensing something cataclysmic on the way, I knocked you to the ground." 

    I nod. So that's why he and I survived. The blast probably would have killed us if it had hit us, but it didn't. "Thanks." 

    He shrugs. "Consider it a debt repaid." 

    Ryuushi groans and starts to stir. 

    "What now?" I ask. 

    "I don't know, but we'd better make it quick." Muraki glances at the fog. "I think we're about to find out firsthand if mortal spirits can make it through the Arechi no Shisou." 

    I nod. "At least we don't need to worry about the army anymore." 

    "You'd better get him up," Muraki says, gesturing to Tsuzuki. 

    I walk hesitantly over to Tsuzuki. He's still hiding behind the wings. They look almost the same as when he'd been possessed by Saagatanasu. Okay, not a good parallel to be drawing, since he chopped me apart with a meat cleaver during that. Right, thinking happy thoughts. "Tsuzuki . . .?" 

    "Don't look at me," he says, and his voice is trembling on the edge of hysteria. "I'm evil . . . I'm a demon . . ." 

    "No, you aren't." I rest my hand on the edge of one shivering wing, trying to get through to him. Because I don't love him any less, even after seeing what he could do. Sure, it scares me a little, but he would never hurt me intentionally. And that's all that really matters. 

    I kneel down in front of him, trying to wrap my empathic presence around him. Surround his mind with mine; make him see firsthand that I still love him. More than love him. "Please, Tsuzuki . . . we need you. We can't leave you behind here." 

    He shakes his head, scattering tears. I can only barely see him through the feathers, but he has both hands pressed against his face. "Evil," he whispers. "I'm a murderer." 

    "Hisoka," Muraki says, in a low, warning tone. I have a feeling that Ryuushi is getting up. Or at least trying to. Muraki doesn't sound panicked, just cautious. Then again, with Muraki so detached, who's to say? I certainly can't spare a glance; I have to keep my attention focused on Tsuzuki. If he feels the slightest bit of fear coming from me, he'll think it's directed at him. 

    "Tsuzuki, you're not a murderer," I say quickly, unable to keep the urgency out of my voice. "You're not, and I still love you, I know what you are and I love you . . ." 

    He just shakes his head. 

    "Damn it, Tsuzuki, we don't have time for this!" I reach through the feathers and grab his chin in my hand, forcing him to look at me. "Listen to me, God damn it! We have to get out of here! You're not a murderer and you're not evil and we have to go!" 

    He stares at me for a second, obviously surprised. Then he nods slightly and lets me help him to his feet. 

    "Let's go," Muraki says. He's gathered some torches and some other supplies, and shoved them into one of the packs. Without further time to realize what a bad idea it is, we walk into the fog. 

    It's about another five minutes before my legs abruptly remember that Ryuushi just sucked out all my energy. They obligingly unhinge at the knees and send me sprawling facedown on the ground. Oh goody. Can my day get any better? 

    I hear Tsuzuki let out an alarmed little yelp, then feel myself getting lifted up and cradled against his shoulder. Can't quite see him, though. My vision is hazy. I've been running on pure adrenaline since Ryuushi slit my throat wide open, and now it's finally hit me. Or maybe that's just all the fog between my face and his. Either way, he sure looks fuzzy. 

    "Hisoka?" Okay, maybe it's me being tired, but his voice sounds like it's coming from very far away. "Hisoka, what's wrong? Can you hear me?" 

    I can, but I can't manage to get up the energy to speak. So I just turn my face into his chest and close my eyes. Sleep sounds really good right about now. 

    No! What am I thinking?! I can't sleep. We have to go. I try vaguely to struggle to my feet and end up sagging back into Tsuzuki's arms. Right, scratch that plan then. "What's wrong?" Tsuzuki repeats anxiously. 

    "Tsuzuki . . ." Hey, I can talk. Whoda thunk it. "Your wings're so pretty . . ." What? I didn't mean to say that. I have about zero control over my speech right now, apparently. "Makes you so beautiful . . ." 

    He gives me a puzzled look. "Hisoka?" 

    "Can you carry him?" I hear Muraki ask. Can't see him; he's outside the realm of my peripheral vision and it's too much trouble to turn my head. 

    "I could, and so could you," Tsuzuki replies. "But it would slow us down. Maybe too much." 

    "Go . . ." I feel myself vaguely pushing at Tsuzuki's chest. "Without me . . ." 

    Tsuzuki ignores me as if I hadn't even spoken. And given that it was a pretty stupid suggestion, I'm not particularly surprised. "Can we take the time to give him a rest?" 

    "I'm not sure we should chance it," Muraki says, and I agree whole-heartedly. I can still feel the patch of cold that signifies Ryuushi on the edge of my senses. I won't be comfortable until that's gone. "Ryuushi has traversed this place before, and can probably locate us within it far easier than makes me happy." 

    I try to nod, but the world is fading out. I think I'm about to lose consciousness. God, sleep would be nice. To forget . . . 

    Tsuzuki is saying something, but I can't hear him. 

    I feel something pressed against my mouth, firm but soft. The taste of blood. I don't understand -- 

    then it hits me, like an electric shock right to my system. White-hot energy pours through me, but it doesn't hurt. It feels good, like a high, and I grab for more of it. More energy -- 

    Then the taste of blood is gone and I'm sitting up, looking around wildly. "What?" I ask feebly, and glance over at Tsuzuki to see a small cut on the palm of his hand healing. He looks tired. "You didn't . . ." 

    He smiles wearily at me. "Made sense that it would work both ways, doesn't it?" He reaches out and caresses my face, pushing my hair out of my eyes. Now that the intial high is fading, I realize that he didn't really give me that much of his energy; it wouldn't do for him to wear himself out. I'm not even back up to my usual standard. But I have enough to walk, to make it through this. I hope. 

    "That's very sweet and all," Muraki interrupts, gaining a dirty look from both of us, "but can we go?" 

    I nod and climb to my feet. "Ryuushi's not close," I say. "But he's still too close for comfort." 

    We walk through the fog for a while. I can vaguely see things in the shadows, and it keeps making me jump, damn it. "We have to go through this for a day?" I ask, repressing the urge to groan. Ryuushi has faded to nothing but a vague twinge of my senses. In another half hour or so he'll be gone completely. Too bad he didn't die. 

    "Yes," Tsuzuki says. 

    "Do we have any idea what we're dealing with?" Muraki asks. He still sounds detached, but he's a little more with it now. Maybe the prospect of getting out of Hell is encouarging him. I sure have no clue. 

    "Not a clue, other than what we can deduce from the name." Tsuzuki seems to have accustomed to the wings; they shift as he walks. They aren't as beautiful when you can't see their sheen, but they look ghostly in the fog. It's pretty cool. "Arechi no Shisou. Wasteland . . . shadows of death." 

    "Shadows of the dead," Muraki corrects. 

    I frown. "No, I'm pretty sure it's shadows of death." 

    "What's it matter?" Tsuzuki asks, a note of wry humor in his voice. "Either way, it can't be good." 

    Muraki laughs slightly. The fog twists around him and obscures him from view for a minute. I don't like that one bit. 

    "Should we . . . link up?" I ask hesitantly. "It'd really suck if one of us got lost in here." 

    Muraki smirks at me. "Are you offering to hold my hand, Hisoka?" 

    I glare fiercely at him. "No! Well . . . yes. God damn it all anyway." 

    Muraki laughs and takes my hand in a firm grip. Tsuzuki does the same on my other side. I would rather die than admit it, but I feel a hell of a lot more secure this way. "Ryuushi said that demons would be able to trust their instincts to get out," I say to Tsuzuki. 

    Tsuzuki gives me a lopsided little smile. "I thought I wasn't a demon." 

    "Tsuzuki . . ." I say warningly. It's the kind of tone that generally implies a cold, lonely couch in his future. I've only used it a few times. 

    "I can feel the pull," he says, and his voice is soft, almost wistful. "Apparently even demons don't like being in Hell. They're all programmed to feel their way to the exit. Even through this." 

    The fog twists and forms a shadow of a face on my right side. I shiver and look away quickly, hoping neither of the others saw. 

    "Ryuushi also mentioned something about the Gatekeeper letting them through," I say, figuring I may as well bring it up sooner rather than later. Muraki's facial expression doesn't change a bit, but Tsuzuki winces slightly. "Do you know anything about that?" 

    Tsuzuki shakes his head. "I think it's supposed to be a damned soul, but that doesn't make any sense. We'll just have to see when we get there." 

    We fall into silence. It's getting darker. 

    Arechi no Shisou. Shadows of death. Shadows of the dead? I suppose it makes more sense that way. 

    "What happened with Saki?" 

    Oh, I shouldn't have asked that. Muraki's hand just tightened on mine so much as to cut off circulation. And he doesn't reply. But damn it, I want to know! Maybe later, I guess. 

    After a few hours of walking, it's nearly pitch black. We sit down in the waning light to rest. I can't feel Ryuushi anymore, and haven't been able to for nearly two hours. For now, we're safe enough. 

    "Do you think . . . it killed him?" Tsuzuki asks hesitantly, and his hand is cold. I give it a reassuring squeeze. 

    "No," I say. "It didn't kill him. More's the pity." 

    "Don't say that," Tsuzuki says faintly. "I . . . I don't want to be a killer anymore." 

    The hardest part of the job for any Shinigami is taking those souls who have done nothing wrong except evade death. Even children. If someone is fated to die, they must, or else the entire system can be thrown out of balance. Try explaining that to an eight-year-old girl with pigtails. Worse yet, try watching Tsuzuki explain. 

    So many times I saw him crying after assignments. But I never knew what to say. And still don't, not really. None of us want to be killers. But if we didn't do it, someone else would. 

    Does that absolve our guilt? 

    Even maybe a little? 

    Or does it just make us more guilty, for being the ones to do it? 

    It doesn't really seem to bother the rest of them. Tatsumi, Watari, Wakaba. They all know it needs to be done. Even Akimiya takes it in stride. Hell, even Rika takes Akimiya's job in stride. And once I adjusted, I did too. 

    Tsuzuki was the only one who never adjusted to being a killer. 

    How is this fair? What was EnmaDaiOh thinking? In order to make him repent for what the lives he had unintentionally taken, EnmaDaiOh put him in a position where he had to intentionally take lives. Sometimes I wonder if his head is screwed on straight. 

    So Tsuzuki cries after assignments, and I do my best to comfort him, but I know that I never can. 

    Muraki, surprisingly, is the one who answers. "Tsuzuki-san, there was nothing wrong in what you did. You acted to protect the life of someone you love dearly." 

    "But . . ." Tsuzuki stares down at his palms, freeing his hand from mine. I can barely see it in the dim light. "All this power . . . I shouldn't have it. It's not right. I can't . . . can't control it." 

    "You do control it," Muraki says evenly. "You could've blown me off the face of the planet any number of times, and I've certainly done things to deserve it. Yet you never have. You're in perfect control. Some part of your mind assessed, just then, that you had no other option but to let loose that maelstrom." 

    "I don't want it!" Tsuzuki yells, and presses his hands to his face. "It's evil . . . it makes me evil." 

    "Is a gun evil?" Muraki counters. He's being surprisingly logical about all this. "It can kill. Yet your partner carries one." 

    "A gun isn't evil," Tsuzuki says weakly. "It can just be used to do evil things." 

    "Exactly," Muraki says, sounding satisfied. "And so can your power. What you did just now wasn't evil." 

    "And the first time?" Tsuzuki asks in a low voice. 

    Muraki has no answer to that, because he doesn't know the specifics, so I leap in to have my say. "Tsuzuki, that was an accident. It doesn't count." 

    "Innocent people died," Tsuzuki says stubbornly. "Because I couldn't control this." 

    "Because Ryuushi forced you to lose control!" 

    "I should have been able to -- " 

    "Bullshit!" I give him an exasperated look. "We can't live our lives by 'shoulds', Tsuzuki! Don't you remember what you said to me at the beginning of this whole stupid mess?" He gives me a blank look, and I know he doesn't. "I kept trying to insist that getting kicked out was my fault because I couldn't fight Muraki, but you wouldn't let me say that. Because it wasn't my fault for freezing up. I was scared. I . . ." I give Muraki an uneasy glance. "I was so scared," I finish softly. Then my voice hardens. "But that wasn't my fault, Tsuzuki, and this wasn't yours." 

    "It's just . . ." Tsuzuki's voice wavers. "I feel like I shouldn't hate him. Because he's my father and all." 

    Muraki and I both let out identical snorts of disbelief. 

    Tsuzuki manages a wan smile. "All right, I know that it's silly. But that doesn't stop me from feeling it." 

    "We aren't everything our parents are," I say softly. "I think the three of us might know that better than anyone." 

    Tsuzuki is silent for a long moment. 

    "Of course," Muraki continues, "you can go into Christian mythology. Demons are nothing more than fallen angels." 

    "So?" Tsuzuki asks, looking confused. 

    "So," Muraki says, "you have just as much potential to be angelic as you have to be demonic. To use a classic example, if you cut off a dog's tail, will the dog have tailless pups? Of course not. The same holds true here. If an angel falls, its offspring could be born angels." 

    "It's a nice theory," Tsuzuki says, looking somewhat wistful. "But I don't think it holds true here." 

    "Why not?" I ask him curiously. 

    "I don't think angels would have the power to cause mass destruction," he says. 

    Muraki shrugs. "On a technical level, it's all just macrokinesis." He takes in our blank looks. "The ability to move matter with the mind, on a grand scale." 

    "I know that," I say, bristling. 

    Muraki smirks at me. "All Tsuzuki-san is doing is colliding matter in the air, causing explosions." 

    Tsuzuki looks like he has a headache. 

    "Oh, quit it with the scientific exposition," I grumble. "It doesn't matter anyway." 

    Muraki gives me a dirty look and falls silent. 

    "I don't think angels are macrokinetic," Tsuzuki finally says. 

    "All right, fine," Muraki says, now sounding like he's in a bit of an ill-temper. It makes me want to giggle, but I suppose that isn't really fair of me. "But you aren't born to one person, you know. You had a mother." 

    I hope Tsuzuki didn't just catch my flinch. Somehow, I was hoping this wouldn't come up. 

    "I don't know my mother at all," Tsuzuki whispers. "I -- I remember the people I grew up with, the woman I thought was my mother and Ruka-chan, my sister, but . . . they were only the people who raised me. Not my real parents." 

    "Sometimes that makes all the difference," I say, but Tsuzuki looks so forlorn that I have to tell him. "Your mother was a good woman, Tsuzuki. Tatsumi told me a bit about her. She gave you up to hide you from Ryuushi." 

    "Oh," Tsuzuki says quietly. Then, barely a whisper, "She's dead, isn't she?" 

    I reach out and gently touch his face. "Yes, Tsuzuki." 

    "She died . . . protecting me from him." 

    I can feel his tears on my fingers, and my own are stinging at my eyes. I manage to choke out, "Yes, Tsuzuki," and then draw him into a hug. He shivers, clinging to me. 

    Muraki just sits and watches us in silence. He waits, considerately giving us our little moment, then says, "We should go." 

    I nod and stand, then help Tsuzuki up. We link hands again and continue on in silence. 

~~~~ 

    We don't have time to rest, much to my annoyance. By the time I think about six hours has gone by, I'm no longer really paying attention to what I'm doing. My feet just keep moving, one in front of the other. Step, step, step. It's dark now. Completely dark. I couldn't even see my own body. But then Muraki lit one of his torches. 

    The small circle of light we walk within only seems to make the darkness outside it darker. There's something really scary about it. 

    "Did you see something over there?" Muraki suddenly asks us, and Tsuzuki and I both flinch. 

    "Where?" I finally ask, and hope my voice isn't shaking quite like the leaf it sounds like. 

    Muraki gestures with the torch. It feels like he's hitting the darkness itself, like it's a solid thing. A living thing. I can't hold back the shiver. 

    "Shadows of death," Tsuzuki murmurs. "Shadows of the dead." 

    And I can almost see eyes in the darkness. 

    "I just wish we knew what we were dealing with," he says, and we all unconsciously speed up our pace. 

    "Now you know how we felt on our way through Hell in the first place," I tell him, and give his hand a squeeze. His hands are cold again. I can feel his terror seeping in through my skin, no matter how well he tries to keep it contained for my sake. 

    But now that Muraki has gotten us worked up, we keep seeing things in the shadows. We're only about halfway through the Arechi no Shisou. I can't imagine walking through this for another six hours. But Ryuushi said it would take a day, maybe more, and he marched us for twelve hours on the first day. 

    So. Six more hours of blackness. You'd think I'd be able to take it, but just . . . something about this place. It wears on my nerves, constantly, like a dull buzz at the edge of your hearing. An empathic buzz. Fear and pain linger just on the edges of my senses. So low that I almost can't feel it, and that just makes it more maddening. I might almost prefer outright emotion. 

    It's the feeling of unease, of something coming. And yet nothing has come. There has to be more to it than this, or why would all the demons have been afraid of it so much? 

    Shadows of death. (I don't care what Muraki says, it's not shadows of the dead.) But what would represent that? 

    It must be different for each demon, for each person that has to face it. Or for each demon. 

    "More fog," Tsuzuki whispers, as another cloud floats up around us. It looks spooky in the light of the torch. I can't hold back a shiver. Tsuzuki's hand is still cold; Muraki's is clammy. I know without touching either of their minds that we're all scared out of our minds. 

    Then the fog parts and a single figure steps through it. I can't see them well enough to identify them. 

    "Welcome to Arechi no Shisou." The voice is feminine. Soft and light. Very familiar, but I can't quite place it. "An odd band of warriors before me. A mortal, though gifted. A Shinigami, though not recognized by the JuohCho. And a half-breed blood demon, not recognized by either of his kind. Not wholly one thing . . . or wholly another." 

    We just stand there in silence. None of us have enough balls to demand of the shadowy figure a name or description. The numbing cold is back, but different this time, because it has no source. It simply is. 

    "I see within you . . . regret. Despair. Betrayal. Hatred. Anguish." 

    There's a moment of utter silence. 

    "Yet I also see love, sacrifice . . . determination. You are not damned souls, so there is no reason to keep you within." 

    I feel myself breathe a sigh of relief. But it can't be that easy. It's just not possible. 

    "However," the voice says, and my stomach drops back into my shoes. "You must endure the trial to pass, as all must, and I wish you . . . whatever luck you deserve." 

    "Wait!" I say, sensing that whoever she is, she's going to leave. "What is the trial!" 

    "You must each defeat that which is inside yourself," she says. "That which makes you weakest." 

    No good can come of this. 

    Then she steps out from the shadows, and for the first time in years, I'm face to face with Kakyouin Tsubaki. 

~~~~ 


	13. Chapter Twelve

_Woohoo! My worst cliffhanger yet! XD _

By the way, I liberally reference both anime and manga in this chapter, so if you don't know who everyone is, it's not really that important. 

Chapter Twelve 

    We all just gape at her. Let's hear it for brainpower. Even Muraki looks totally poleaxed, and on his face, that's a pretty amusing expression. Tsubaki-hime just smiles prettily at all of us, then offers Muraki a flower. A camilla, of course. My brain is shutting down from the shock of this. 

    Sure, somewhere deep down I know it's all in my head. All in our heads. The figure took on something that would have meaning to all three of us. So why am I quaking in my metaphorical boots, wondering if she's going to be mad about my shooting her? Which I wouldn't have done if it wasn't for the fact that she would have died anyway. 

    She can't be here. Even if she somehow had wound up in Hell -- and I won't believe that, I won't, I won't -- then she couldn't be here. No damned souls in the Arechi no Shisou. 

    I can only hope that Muraki and Tsuzuki remember that too. 

    "Are you the Gatekeeper?" I ask her hesitantly. 

    She laughs, a light, lingering laugh that I remember painfully well, even though I only heard it a couple times. "Do you see a gate?" 

    "If you aren't the Gatekeeper, what are you?" I ask. 

    Tsubaki-hime just shrugs. Then she reaches out and caresses my face briefly, then moves on to Tsuzuki. "You shall be first," she (it?) proclaims, and pulls Tsuzuki a few steps forward. 

    Whatever is inside you, that makes you weakest. Muraki and I can only stand there, watching Tsuzuki blink helplessly at her, trying vaguely to prepare himself. 

    Tsubaki-hime's form molds and shifts, apparently taking on some other form that is unique to Tsuzuki. I wait apprehensively to see what that will be. After a moment, it splits in two, and morphs until there are two high-school girls standing in front of Tsuzuki. I remember them, though not their names. The two girls from Kyoto. Mariko and . . . Maki? I'm not sure. And I feel horrible for not remembering, but it was nearly a year ago. 

    Muraki is watching them impassively. I wouldn't bet money that he even recognizes them. 

    What do they represent? 

    Tsuzuki's inner weakness . . . 

    "Murderer," Mariko says softly, her voice deathly calm. "You killed us." 

    Tsuzuki stares at them and shakes his head. "No . . . I . . ." 

    It isn't fair. Muraki killed the first, and the death of the second was an accident that Muraki engineered. Tsuzuki was trying to save them, not to hurt them! And certainly not to kill them! 

    _//I . . . I don't want to be a killer anymore . . .// _

    I start forward, trying to think of something I can say to help him, when I realize that I can't move. Can't speak. Can't even use my empathy to help him. I'm frozen in place; there's nothing I can do. Somehow, he has to get through this on his own. 

    "You have killed hundreds," Maki says, and her form shifts and we're presented with Maria Wong. Apparently Muraki recognizes her; I can feel a flare of emotion from him. Confusion more than anything else. So my empathy still works. I can feel what Tsuzuki is feeling, but I can't project. 

    "You even kill those you were trying to help," a tiny, chirpy voice states, and I stare around wildly to see Kazusa, clutching a teddy bear in her arms. 

    "Because that is what you are, Tsuzuki," a sad voice drifts over. I don't remember his name. The teacher from St. Michael's, that Tsuzuki was friends with, in a weird sort of way. He was so upset when he died; I remember that. "You are nothing more than a murderer. What makes you think you have a right to live?" 

    "I . . . because I . . ." Tsuzuki's voice is faint, and he's gone to his knees. I can tell he's losing this inner battle with himself. He believes what the shadows are telling him. Shadows of death. Because we die if we cannot defeat the shadow of ourselves. 

    I hate it when things suddenly become clear. 

    "Because . . . Hisoka . . ." 

    That's it, Tsuzuki, think of me, remember me. Remember what I said to you earlier, come on, Tsuzuki . . . you can do this, I know you can . . . 

    There's an ugly laugh, and someone I don't recognize is standing in front of Tsuzuki now. Well, that stands to reason; he's been a Shinigami far longer than me. I can't recognize everyone he has to face. "Oh, yes, your darling Hisoka," the man snarls. "You get to go on and be happy, but we all had to die! Because of you!" 

    "No!" Tsuzuki cries desperately, trying to stand up. "I didn't mean to -- !" But the man kicks him in the stomach, sending him back to his knees. 

    "You killed all of us!" the voices clamor, and the figure continues to split exponentially. Two becomes four, four becomes eight, eight becomes sixteen. There's a sea of disembodied voices. You killed me, you killed us, you have no right to be happy. Tsuzuki's guilt and grief tears at me like a living thing, and there's nothing I can do. 

    "What right do you have?" Mariko asks sweetly. "After everything you've done, what right do you have to love?" 

    Tsuzuki looks up at her, and I can see the tears streaming down his face. "Because . . . I make Hisoka happy . . ." 

    There's a moment of perfect silence, like all the spirits are holding their breath. Then, abruptly, the figures melt and snap back into one. Another figure I don't recognize. "How can you possibly make him happy?" she asks. 

    "I don't know," Tsuzuki says honestly, and there's strength in his voice that wasn't there before. "But I do. And that isn't mine to question." 

    I hear her laugh gently, and I'm abruptly released of my paralysis. I stumble forward, pulling Tsuzuki into an embrace. He's crying, just a little, and hides his face in my shoulder. 

    "It is done," the woman intones softly. "He may pass." Her gaze shifts to Muraki, and I feel the paralysis return. I get to go last. Goody for me! 

    Muraki just looks back calmly, apparently waiting for whatever's coming. And what is coming? This ought to be interesting. I've never really wondered about Muraki's inner weaknesses, so I suppose it would be mean to gloat that I'm going to find them out. 

    More specifically, what's going to happen during my turn? That's what I should be thinking about. But my brain seems to have frozen and I can't come up with a damn thing. The woman just smiles rather mysteriously and seems to melt into the background. 

    And who should stride out of the darkness but that man we all know and love, Shindou Saki. Lucky Muraki gets a second chance to kill him, even though it won't really be him. 

    Or will it? The spectres that haunted Tsuzuki gave off no empathic presence of their own, but Saki does. I think it's probably really him. He followed us here. For this purpose? Maybe. Damned souls can't come into the Arechi no Shisou, though. So that must mean . . . 

    Muraki is having similar thoughts, though he's only giving his half-brother a cool look. "Were you a demon the whole time?" he asks quietly. 

    Saki laughs, a grating sound that wears at my already worn nerves. "No," he says. "But if you can impress the right demons once you get here, you can ascend." 

    "Is that what you call it?" Muraki asks, and his voice is deadly calm, but I can hear the rage straining behind it. "Ascending?" 

    Saki laughs. "My poor, dear, brother. All your miserable little life you've hated me. Ever since we met. It never even occurred to you that you were turning into me, did it? You'd be a good demon, and probably get chosen for the honor, if you ever died and ended up here. All that time you were trying to resurrect me, I was here." He laughs again. "You're lucky you didn't manage it; there would've been quite a surprise waiting for you after you'd gotten me into the new body." 

    Muraki is so angry that I'm seeing red just from my proximity to him, but trying not to cut myself off from his mind. If he's going to break, I want to know -- not that I think there's anything that any of us could do about it. 

    "I . . . was not . . . turning into you," Muraki finally drags out from between clenched teeth. 

    "Oh, please," Saki says disdainfully. "To have your revenge on me, you turned into a callous murderer. You don't even remember the people you've killed; there's so much blood on your hands. And all for your 'cause'. You've twisted yourself to the point that you can't love, and don't even recognize love when you see it." 

    I feel a brief flash of startlement from Tsuzuki, but somehow I don't think Saki is referring to him. He's talking about Oriya. 

    "Shut up," Muraki whispers. 

    "You've betrayed all you hold dear," Saki continues, as if Muraki hadn't even spoken. "The only friend you have merely stays with you out of some sense of deranged loyalty. You've given up everything, become what you most despise, and yet when you finally find me, you can't even manage to harm a hair on my head." 

    "You ran!" Muraki, for the first time I've ever seen him, loses his cool. It's not a pretty sight, and I hope I never see it again. "You ran like the pathetic coward that you are! I could have killed you!" 

    "And that would've just been the last step," Saki sneers. "By killing me, you would've merely taken my place." 

    "That isn't true!" Muraki yells. 

    "You know it is," Saki says with an elegant shrug. "Or it wouldn't bother you anywhere near as much." 

    Muraki snarls something incoherent and launches himself at his brother. Apparently, the move takes Saki offguard, because they go down in a tangle of limbs and anger. I can't even see which one of them is which in the thick of the fight. 

    Finally, the movement stops. Saki has Muraki pinned to the ground, his hands around Muraki's throat. As strange as it seems, I don't want Muraki to die here. 

    "Pathetic," Saki whispers. "That's what you are, brother. Pathetic." 

    Muraki just stares up at him. 

    "Don't you even care that I'm going to kill you?" Saki finally asks. 

    Muraki looks up. "No," he finally says. 

    "Why not?" Saki asks, apparently nonplussed by this. 

    "Because one of us has to die," Muraki finally says. "I've known that since you killed our father. And if what you say is true, if I can't kill you without becoming you, I'd rather die. Thanks." 

    Tsuzuki and I just stare. 

    Saki slowly lifts his hands from Muraki's throat and stands up. 

    "You aren't going to kill me?" Muraki asks. 

    Saki gives him a rather bitter smile. "It's forbidden to kill someone undergoing the trial of Arechi no Shisou until it's judged that they failed." 

    "Oh," Muraki says vaguely. Then he shrugs slightly. "In that case." He pulls out a single ofuda from his pocket and flicks it casually into the air. It lands squarely on Saki's chest. 

    It's rather like watching an action movie in fast forward. Saki just stares at it dumbly for a second, then I see a wisp of smoke. Then everything's happening at once, and he's burning and burning and burning. His screams echo in the plain, and the terror of his soul rips through me until I'm shaking in Tsuzuki's arms, despite the paralysis that holds me still. 

    And then he's gone. Soul and all. Dissolved and sent . . . nowhere. Because there was nothing left to send. 

    Now it's my turn. Peachy. 

    I feel myself pulled by some invisible force, out of Tsuzuki's arms and upright. I take a few steps forward, and then, abruptly, both Muraki and Tsuzuki vanish. I'm too confused to think about what it means, but it occurs to me that I might have disappeared for them during their tests. 

    "And you . . ." The woman sighs and steps back out of the shadows, but her form has morphed again and she looks . . . like . . . my mother. "You're a tough one, you know that? Always have been." Her voice has taken on the sharp, disapproving tone that I'm so painfully familiar with. 

    I just stand there and wait, not knowing if there's anything I should be doing or can do. 

    "Your greatest weakness . . . is also your greatest strength." She gives me a confused look. 

    Ah, that would be Tsuzuki, then. Her next words confirm my thoughts. 

    "When you lose him . . . it is as if the world ends for you." She crosses her arms over her chest and glares. "You're damn near unable to function without him. Yet . . . your love for him brought you through five levels of Hell. I don't understand." She shakes her head, annoyed. "I can't test you with that. But . . . there's really nothing else?" 

    "So I can't be tested?" I stare at her, confused. And hoping really hard that it doesn't mean I can't go through at all. 

    She shrugs. "Your test will come later. Most likely when you least expect it." 

    And then she's gone. 

    Tsuzuki pulls me into a hug, and I can feel how terrified he is. "You were just . . . you just disappeared," he blurts out, holding me tightly. 

    I smooth his hair. "Shh, I'm okay." Which may or may not be true. The spectre's words weren't very comforting. Not that they were supposed to be, or like there's anything else I can do about it. 

    "Is it done, then?" Muraki asks, sounding hazy. 

    "Yes," I tell him. 

    "Oh good." He falls forward, flat onto his face. I can tell from where I'm standing that he passed out, and I'm not particularly surprised. The strength of that spell he used must have taken it right out of him. 

    "Can we rest?" Tsuzuki whispers, but he's already sinking to the ground. I'm bone weary, and I can't see any way to get moving again. I let him pull me down with him, and barely have time to register the ground before I'm asleep. 

~~~~ 

    I don't know how long it is before I wake to Tsuzuki shaking me slightly. I snap back to consciousness. There's a haze of cold on the edge of my senses. "Ryuushi's coming," I blurt out. Tsuzuki pales, and I wish for the thousandth time that I could control my mouth. He didn't really need to know that. 

    "Let's get moving," Muraki says, and he's up and looking better than he has in days. I feel better, too, though certainly not back up to par. "The trial will slow him down. It can't be much farther now." 

    "But Ryuushi said it would take a full day, and we didn't walk that long," I say, though I'm not arguing with the first part of the statement. We're all walking again before we've really processed what's going on. The fog has lifted somewhat, and we can see each other again. 

    "True," Tsuzuki says thoughtfully. "But if that entire demon army had needed to undergo the trial, that would have taken a long time. Especially since it seems it has to be done one person -- well, spirit -- at a time." 

    That's a good point, and we continue on with somewhat lifted spirits. The fact that the fog is gone and that we're almost to the exit is making us all pretty cheerful. "Won't Ryuushi just follow us out?" I finally ask, hesitant to break the mood. 

    "Probably," Tsuzuki says. "But he'll be weak now, and he can't really hurt us. Well, he's still probably got enough strength to do some basic 'jitsu . . . but I'm not sure he'll want to leave Hell. He'd risk the Shinigami capturing him again." 

    "Like they're going to capture us," I can't help but mutter. Tsuzuki gives me a disapproving look. "Where does the gateway spill out into Chijou?" I ask. 

    "I'm not sure," Tsuzuki says. "There are probably several places, like there are several entrances. Or maybe it's thought commanded . . . I really don't know. We'll just have to see once we get there." 

    And we plod on for what seems like an eternity. Ryuushi's coldness keeps wavering on the edge of my sense. He's close, but not too close. And he doesn't seem to be getting any closer. I suppose he can't go much faster than us. Then again, he's probably counting on the Gatekeeper to delay us. Don't ask me what we're going to do about that. 

    "There . . ." Tsuzuki breathes out, and I see a large arch in the distance. There are characters carved into the black marble that I don't recognize. But apparently Tsuzuki does. 

    It takes nearly another hour to get there. 

    The arch leads out onto a narrow, rocky path. We can see a tiny bit of light at the end of it. The light at the end of the tunnel. An oncoming train? I sure hope not. We start towards it, but predictably find ourselves again locked into place. We can talk now, though. I hear Muraki breathe out a soft curse. 

    "You cannot pass." 

    The voice isn't what I expected it to be. Not firm and foreboding. Just a small, timid voice, weak nearly to the point of being inaudible. 

    "But -- " Tsuzuki begins, and then his voice stops as the Gatekeeper emerges from the shadows. 

    She's tiny, a woman of no more than my height. I'd guess she's in her mid-twenties, younger than Tsuzuki and Muraki. Her hair is brown and matted, reaching to her waist, and her clothes are tattered, hanging off her. She looks so weak that she can barely stand, and from what I can see of her arms, she's thinner than can possibly be good for her. Her face is hollow, and her eyes . . . 

    Her eyes are a deep brown, and they look like you could fall into them forever. 

    Tentatively, I reach out and try to touch her mind -- 

    but her pain screams at me so loudly that I'm forced to close her out before I lose my mind. 

    "You have to let us out," Tsuzuki says insistently. 

    She shakes her head. "Can't. Can't." Her voice is hollow, terrified. "He knows. He knows everything." 

    "Who does?" I find myself free of the paralysis and walk up to her. We could get by her, almost certainly, but we're trapped by something far stronger. Compassion. 

    She looks at Tsuzuki and shakes her head. "He'd hurt me if I let you pass . . ." 

    What is she? She isn't a demon, that's for damned sure. But then, what? I hold onto Tsuzuki to steady my mind and reach out for hers again. It's hard, but I manage to hang onto it for a few seconds. 

    I stare at her. "You . . ." 

    She cringes away from me. 

    "Hey, we're not going to hurt you," Tsuzuki says gently, and reaches out to touch her shoulder. She keeps cringing. Tsuzuki looks at me questioningly. 

    I can hardly speak. "Tsuzuki . . . she's human. She's alive." 

    Tsuzuki blinks at me. "Then why on earth is she here?" 

    "Punishment. Punishment." She rocks back and forth, hugging her knees to her chest. "He was mad. He knows everything." 

    Tsuzuki continues to look at me, and I shrug helplessly. "Why don't we take you with us?" Tsuzuki finally asks her, unsure if there's anything else that we can do. I second the motion, nodding vigorously. 

    "Can't," she says, shaking her head. "Can't leave. He rips at my soul . . . ties it here. Can't leave." 

    Tsuzuki looks at Muraki and me. "Is there any way to tell if that's true?" he asks us. 

    Muraki snorts. "Of course it's true. She's standing here guarding the gate. If she could leave, she would have by now." 

    I have to admit that he has a point. 

    "Tried," she whispered. "Tried once. Hurt. Hurt so bad." 

    "What if . . ." I swallow hard. The cold of Ryuushi is growing stronger. We don't have much time. "What if we killed you?" Tsuzuki gives me a horrified look, but I ignore him. "Would you be free then?" God only knows how she's staying alive down here anyway; there must be some spell set on her. 

    She shakes her head. "Trapped here. Punishment. He knows everything." 

    Tsuzuki looks at me. 

    "I'm going into her mind," I say softly. "Tsuzuki, you're going to have to be my anchor, or I'll get lost." 

    He nods and takes my hand. 

    Just a light touch is enough to send me spiralling out of control. 

_//nothing but shattered glass// _

    I pull out quickly, and take a deep breath. That alone was enough to know that this poor woman, whoever she is, has gone totally insane. I'm not particularly surprised. I probably would be too in her position. "Let me try again," I say to Tsuzuki's worried look. 

    Slide into her mind. 

    _// "WHERE IS HE?" //_

oh God  
    so much fear 

_// "I can make you pay for this, you witch! I can make you suffer, now tell me! Tell me what you've done with him!" //_

    She's  
I know who she is 

        _// "I can use you the way I would have used him" // _

    trapped into a tiny space and forced through, shatter shatter glass everywhere and there's nothing left but shattered glass the ruins of a shattered mind only able to feel pain and fear nothing left 

    I pull out of her mind and gasp for breath, clinging to Tsuzuki. "She's -- oh God, she's -- " 

    "Shhh." Tsuzuki holds me tightly. The cold is starting to numb my sense. He's close, he's so close. How much time when by while I was in your mind. "What is she, Hisoka?" 

    I swallow hard. "She's your mother." 

    He stares at me. 

    "Ryuushi . . . was mad at her for taking you away . . . tried to use her to break down the barrier instead. It . . . it shattered her mind. He left her here to guard the Gate, and put a spell on her so she wouldn't age or die, and can't leave Hell." 

    I can feel his shock seeping through me, but we need to go, God damn it. 

    "Kaasan . . .?" Tsuzuki says questioningly, reaching out to touch her face. 

    She flinches away. "No can't he hurts me he . . ." She breaks off and looks away. 

    "Is there any way to fix it?" Tsuzuki asks. "Or at least break the spell so she can leave?" 

    I shake my head. "I don't know of any way to break the spell, and we just don't have time to fix her here. Even if we knew how." 

    "There is one way to break the spell," Muraki says softly. 

    Tsuzuki and I both look at him. 

    "What do you think?" Tsuzuki asks me. 

    "Do it," I say softly. "If you could touch her mind . . .you would understand." 

    Tsuzuki takes his mother by the arms. "How do we operate the gate?" he asks her. 

    She blinks at him. "Can't tell you!" She bursts into laughter, ringing in my ears. High-pitched, hysterical laughter. 

    "Please!" He yells. "Please, tell us and . . . and we'll end this pain . . ." 

    "No rest for the weary," she murmurs, slumping into his arms. "No rest for me. Can't get out. Can't get out." 

    "Trust me," Tsuzuki says, staring into her eyes. "Trust me, we can. We'll make it stop hurting." 

    She stares up at him for a long minute. "There's a lever . . ." For the first time, her voice sounds coherent. "Down is out. Up is trapped." She giggles. "But be careful, because he's coming, and he can just pull it up. Trapped in Hell, just like me." 

    "We're out of time," I say. The cold is making my throat close over and my body shake. "Do it, Muraki." 

    Tsuzuki kisses his mother's forehead and steps away. Then he goes over to the wall to find the lever, not wanting to see. I understand that much. Muraki makes no objection to my giving him orders, but takes out his ofuda. 

    She doesn't make any noise as she burns. Just, at the end, there's a relieved sigh as her soul dissipates. 

    "The lever's down," Tsuzuki says. "We'd better run." 

    The three of us stumble along the rocky path. We're about halfway down it when we see the door start to close. Ryuushi must have pulled the lever the other way. We don't say anything, just run faster. 

    Tsuzuki reaches the door first and ducks through it, then starts pushing on it, trying to keep it open. As the one with shortest legs, of course I'm last in line, which doesn't make me too happy. Muraki squeezes through the door, and I'm only a few feet behind him. 

    I hear a shout from behind me and the ground ripples underneath me, throwing me off my feet. Tsuzuki lets out an alarmed cry, and I see him trying to holding the door open. 

    I wonder what's on the other side? 

    And get just a glimpse of Muraki pulling him through, keeping him from being crushed as the door swings shut. 

    I'm so cold . . . 

    Scramble to my feet and turn to face Ryuushi. His anger is so cold, and it's making his eyes burn. 

    Tsuzuki and I trapped on opposite sides of a door. Purple eyes glowing red. 

    _//And then . . . the world caught fire.// _

    This is not good. 

    I back up until I'm backed against the door, then Ryuushi's fingers twitch and I realize I can't move. So he does still have enough magic to do basic 'jitsu. Good to know. Needless to say, all this thinking is being done by the part of my brain which is not screaming in terror. 

    "Well, well, well," Ryuushi says softly. "What have we here." 

    Pressed up against the door, I can feel Tsuzuki on the other side. Feel his panic and denial. Feel him all through me. 

    "You know, this works out very well," Ryuushi purrs, a smile on his face. "I was going to have the army destroy Asato utterly, but . . . maybe this is better. Because now I have you instead . . . the one thing in the world he cares most about." 

    He leans close, and I can feel his breath against my ear. Try to contain the part of me that's panicking. "I can destroy you," he whispers. "And I will. But I'll do it slowly. I'll do it so slowly that you'll go insane from it long before I ever let you go. I will reduce your mind to nothing but so much ashes, and all the while . . . using your power . . . I will return to what I was." 

    There are no wings, now. Not even the skeletal ones. Funny, I'd gotten so used to seeing Tsuzuki's that Ryuushi looks strange without them. 

    "I will feed off you until you're nothing more than a broken little shell of what you are," he says viciously, and I can feel his teeth sink into my ear. Blood. All my power. "And then I'll return that husk to Asato . . . and he'll know that he's the cause of this . . . that because of him, the one he loved was erased forever . . . because even if you died, your mind would never recover from what I can do to it." 

    _// "HISOKA!" // _

    My head snaps around, fighting the paralysis Ryuushi put on it. I can feel Tsuzuki . . . so much that I can hear him . . . which means he probably knows exactly everything Ryuushi just said. 

    _// "Synch with me!" //_

    Synch with him. He can use my body to use his powers. He can -- 

set the world on fire. 

    _// "Hisoka, please!" // _

    But he can't, my mind -- my mind isn't strong enough to withstand that much power, it would collapse under the strain like his mother's did. So much broken glass. 

  
  


    Wouldn't that be better than leaving myself to Ryuushi? 

  
  
  


  


        it's all happening so fast I can't think, can't make decisions 

_// "PLEASE, HISOKA!" // _  
    his mind battering at mine, pleading to be let in, to have control 

There is no other way. 

    _// "SYNCH WITH ME!" // _

  
  


Close my eyes. 

    Open my mind. 

        Let Tsuzuki in. 

Spread my arms wide to embrace the world, and together, Tsuzuki and I unleash Hell. 

~~~~ 


	14. Chapter Thirteen

_I apologize for this chapter in advance. It broke my brain._

Chapter Thirteen 

    Wherever I am, it's dark. 

    There's nothing here, not below me or above me or to the side of me. Just blackness. And Tsuzuki. Standing in front of me. Tears pouring from his beautiful amethyst eyes. 

    He takes off his ring and hands it to me. 

    "What's this for?" I ask him softly. 

    Tsuzuki leans forward and kisses my forehead. "For your sacrifice." 

~~~~ 

    Crazy people don't realize they're crazy. 

~~~~ 

    Feel someone. Something. Hands. Lifting me up. Everything's broken, disjointed, head aches. Too bright. Bright hurts my eyes and my head. Lifting me up. Whose hands? Don't know. Can't tell.   
    Feels like the world is sliding off my back 

off my back and under my skin 

        Sort of like. Well. Like something anyway. Like shattered glass?  
Yeah, think that's it. 

  
  


    Tsuzuki? 

That name means something, I know it. Safe. Here is safe. Am I safe? I don't know, but I remember Tsuzuki. The name Tsuzuki. Safety. Safety and amethyst. Contradicting images. Black wings spread wide and embracing the world 

the world  
        the world caught fire 

  
  
  


Did I set the world on fire?  
    Did Tsuzuki? 

Who is Tsuzuki? 

            Who am I? 

    Funny thing, that. I think most people know who they are. When they think at all. Should I not be thinking? Not be straining the shattered glass? Like a window. A jigsaw puzzle. Or maybe not, because I don't think that actually makes very much sense. 

    Ryuushi. Another name. But this one sends shivers down my spine. Cold shivers, like ice. Frost. Watch the frost gather, sealing you inside yourself. Is that where I am? Inside myself?  
    Maybe there's a place so deep inside each of ourselves that we don't even recognize it when we get there. We lose ourselves along the way and are left in a void with nothing but shattered glass. Glass. Keep coming back to the glass. Why is there so much glass? Covered with frost. 

deep inside myself 

    but I think I'd rather be deep inside someone else because it's cold in here. So very cold. Why is it so cold? 

  
  


        ryuushi is cold 

and he knows everything. 

    "Hisoka?" 

    Coming from miles away, through all the frost and ice, through all the shattered glass. The ceiling. The ceiling is shattered glass. I understand now, at least that much, but why is the ceiling shattered glass? And whose voice is that? 

I recognize the voice, but it sounds wrong. It's usually so full of love and caring, my name sounds like a caress 

    (My name? Is that what my name is?)  
but now there's fear, and it trembles. He's scared (whoever he is) so I'm scared, and his voice trembles and so do I. Trembling. I can feel myself trembling, but I'm not here, wherever I am isn't where the essence of me is. Is it possible to sever one's soul from the body? 

    so strange to be disconnected like this I can feel him touching me but there's no one here, not where I am. Which might be why I don't know where I am? Maybe. 

his hand on my face, just a light, reassuring caress  
    (so many memories) 

        And I can feel it, who I was trying to get to, trying to break through the shattered glass, to reach him to find him that's all that's important to me right now and it hurts 

oh God it hurts so much  
    there's so much fear in him, no matter how much he tries to hide it with love, no matter how much he tries not to be afraid I can HEAR him 

_(I've lost him forever I've killed him this is all my fault oh God how can I ever forgive myself please come back to me please please come back to me)_

    And I can hear myself screaming but I'm not screaming, not in here where I am   
but it hurts so much it hurts it hurts IT HURTS 

fading back into nothing. That gentle touch is gone, and while part of me is agonizing over the loss, another part sighs in relief. No more pain. 

  
  
  


  


Not ever. 

~~~~ 

    Memory is such a funny thing, isn't it? So filled with meaning, but only for one person. You can tell the funniest joke on earth, and someone is bound to give you a strange look. Which, of course, will be followed up by your comment. "You had to be there." 

was I there?  
    _// "Then stay for my sake! I'm so tired of being alone... where I belong... is at your side..." // _

    Alone. It's very lonely in here. But safe. So very safe, cradled in my own mind. Kept far away from all the things that can hurt me. 

_// "please... I need you..." //_

    and far away from all the things that could help me, as well. 

        _// "can I... stay with you?" // _

I can't hear the voice behind those words anymore. 

        that's the funny thing about memory, see? 

it fades. And after a time . . . 

  
  


    it's gone. 

~~~~ 

    Sometimes, when it's been very dark and very quiet for a long while, I think I hear someone calling my name. Except I've forgotten what my name is, and I don't know who would be calling me. But it doesn't matter because I'm safe here, protected by all the layers of broken glass. 

    He's reaching for me. 

but I don't know who he is. 

~~~~ 

    Memories. Shards of broken glass. Is each shard a memory? I don't really see how that's possible. But then again I don't see a lot of things right now. 

    Reach up, touch a shard. 

_// "Such a scary child, it's like he's reading my mind"  
    "You're not my son!" 

All I ever wanted was for them to love me . . .// 

_

    Snatch my hand back. Reach out for another one.  
_// "I swear, by my blood, I am yours. Body and soul, forever and always." //_

No. 

        NO. 

    Tsuzuki . . . 

do I love you?   
    I can't remember. 

    But I do remember that reassuring caress  
the promise of love, of warmth, of not having to be alone or so damn cold all the time 

        but I turned away from that promise because of the pain. 

Tsuzuki . . . 

  
  


why aren't you coming for me? 

~~~~ 

    I can almost hear him, sometimes. But it isn't him. Another familiar voice, calming, soothing. But not beloved. Trying to get me to come out. 

If I'm not coming out for Tsuzuki, I'm sure as hell not coming out for anyone else 

    Besides, maybe that wasn't Tsuzuki anyway. Still don't quite remember. Remember Ryuushi though. Ryuushi is the reason it's this cold. Does he still have me? Don't know. Don't know anything. Can't escape, though. Wherever I am, I can't get out. Is he holding me captive? 

        don't know why but that makes me so scared  


nothing but cold when I think of him 

God please don't let him still have me 

        and I shrink away from that voice and all the things the voice promises, all the safety because what if it's really Ryuushi what if he's just trying to trick me? what if he's really here and I'm really there and he's just trying to make me come out so he can hurt me some more 

  
  


no more pain oh please no more pain I'm so afraid of him 

  
  
  


  
  


    promise me no more pain  


promise me 

  
  


    PROMISE ME 

just sink back into the darkness. stay here and nothing will hurt you, stay locked away inside this shattered glass and nothing can find you not even Ryuushi 

    not even Tsuzuki.  


I do miss him so much 

but 

    but there's always that but 

it's so safe in here, so dark and quiet and safe, and as much as I miss him as much as I love him I don't know, I won't come out until I can know there Ryuushi isn't there I can't let him have me can't let him can't let him can't let him 

    everything is dark and safe like a womb  
except at the end of the womb there's all the pain and mess that constitutes birth 

    and I don't want to be reborn. Not if that's the price. 

~~~~ 

    how can you be tired when you're never properly awake? never properly asleep? Just drifting in a semi-coherent state in between all the time. That's a good word for this, in between. I'm somewhere in between something . . . two things I guess. Me, myself, and I? Trapped out of mind, out of body, out of soul? 

    Or is this my soul? 

It would help if I knew where I was. 

~~~~ 

    Damn voices keep coming back. No matter what I do. Hear them all the time, and they want me to come out. Screw them anyway. It's too dark in here. I couldn't find the way even if I wanted. 

        the only way out is up  
through the ceiling, through the shards of glass 

  
  
  


    through my memories? 

No. Nope, nope, nope. Staying here. Here in the dark and the quiet and the safe. Staying here. Can't make me leave. They can't make me leave! 

            can they? 

sure hope not. 

    but those voices keep calling me and I want to go to them, I really do, want to accept all the things that could give me (warmth, love, happiness) but I'm just so scared and what if it's all a trick and what if it's Ryuushi I can't go back to that 

but Tsuzuki . . .  
    No buts. No. Staying here. 

Reach up, take a shard. 

    _// Dark bedroom and silence, except for breathing, wrapped in comfort and blankets and the warmth of someone's arms. Moonlight shining in the window and the gentle sound of wind. _

    "Ne, Hisoka . . . you know I love you more than anything, right?" Soft voice, so familiar and so far away. 

    "Aa. I know." 

    "And that I'll never let you go or leave you alone or let anyone hurt you?" 

    A smile in the darkness. 

    "Aa. I know that too." // 

    Hold the shard to my chest, hold it tight, treasure the memory of someone I don't truly remember. Hold on to the warmth and the promise of more, but reject the warmth and the promise that's offered. 

hold on 

  
  


    just hold on. 

~~~~ 

    Why have the voices gotten so much clearer? I don't like it. I don't like being able to hear what they're saying. I don't like hearing the desperate, pleading note in that beloved voice. I don't like being able to tell that the voice is beloved to begin with. 

    "Hisoka, please, please come back to me . . ." 

JUST LEAVE ME ALONE! 

    I'm scared, it's safe in here, just let me stay here 

don't want to come out what if it's a trap I can't be hurt anymore I can't I can't I don't want to be hurt anymore 

    you promised that you wouldn't let anyone hurt me 

            you promised 

  
  
  
  


    just let me stay here 

"Hisoka, it's all right, we're safe now, please stop hiding away in here" 

    minutes tick by and turn into hours  
how long? how long can I listen to this? 

        I'm sorry, Tsuzuki, I really am, but I can't come out, I just can't. 

  
  


I do love you 

    Really 

    "Why won't you come out?" 

One single tear, falling through the glass and landing on my upturned face and I want to go to him but 

    _// "I will reduce your mind to nothing but so much ashes" //_

beautiful wings  
    _// "I will feed off you until you're nothing more than a broken little shell of what you are. even if you died, your mind would never recover from what I can do to it." //_

  
  


        please just leave me alone 

  
  
  


New voice. Familiar, but not as familiar as Tsuzuki's. 

    "How can you do this to him? I know you can hear me, damn it! I know you're in here somewhere! LOOK AT WHAT YOU'RE DOING TO HIM!" 

Anger ripping through me tearing me apart 

    guilt _(how can I ever forgive myself?) _

What I've done to him.  
    Because of what he did to me. 

  
  


Safe. Is it safe? 

        Can I do this? 

  
  


Tsuzuki forgive me (and I'll forgive you)  
    forgive yourself 

  
  
  


  
  


                    stretch upwards 

reach into the light. 

~~~~ 


	15. Chapter Fourteen

_Wow... can't believe this is almost over. ::sweatdrops:: One more chapter after this!_

Chapter Fourteen 

    It takes me so long to manage a full level of consciousness that I think I'm awake for a good hour or so before it really sinks in. I still feel all fuzzy. Hazy. The last -- how long? -- is nothing but a blur. Everything after the doorway through the dimension closed is disjointed, like I was watching it through -- 

    through shattered glass? 

    Force my eyes open. It takes a minute to focus, and I just sort of look around the room. Slowly adding together the pieces. Wooden walls. Wooden ceiling. Bed. Blankets. I'm very cold. Even though I can feel the weight of the blankets on top of me, they're not doing anything to take away the chill. 

    I can only think of one place that I've been in that's totally made out of wood, still, or at least looks like it is. Ko Kaku Rou. We're back at Oriya's. 

    Continue to look around. Akimiya is sitting in a bed beside my chair, reading. He hasn't noticed that I'm awake. And lord, does he ever look terrible. I mean, the bags under his eyes are truly impressive.I can't help but wonder why he's still conscious. 

    Right, try to muster up the energy to speak. I feel totally drained. But then again, I suppose I probably am. After what Ryuushi did to me, then getting through the Arechi no Shisou, then getting out of Hell -- not that I remember very clearly how we did that . . . I manage to make a little cough, and Akimiya nearly falls out of his chair. 

    His face splits into a wide grin when he sees me looking at him. "Hey, you're finally awake!" He sounds damn near overjoyed. Really, Akimiya, I didn't know you cared. At least, not that much. "We've all been really worried." 

    "What . . ." I have to cough again before I can manage to talk. "What happened?" 

    He waves this aside. "I'll get to that in a minute. You must be exhausted. Do you want anything?" 

    I consider this. "Cold," I finally manage. "I'm so cold." 

    He nods slightly. "I'm really not surprised. We figured when you were unconscious it didn't really matter, but -- " He catches my glare and laughs slightly. "Let me get you some more blankets and some tea. Are you hungry?" 

    I shake my head. I might be if I had a little more energy, but not now. 

    "Okay. You'll have to eat something soon, but not right now. I'll be right back." He walks out of the room and returns a few minutes later with two blankets slung over one arm and a cup of tea in his hand. He puts the tea on a side table and spreads the blankets over me, then helps me sit up and holds the mug at my lips. I hate feeling like an invalid, but I can't deny how weak I am. 

    The tea is so hot it nearly burns my tongue, but once I've got it down, I finally warm up a little from the inside out. 

    Akimiya helps me lie down again. "You should get some more sleep," he says. "Real sleep, not this catatonic shit that you've been pulling." 

    Hm, interesting. I sure don't remember being catatonic. But I suppose if I'd been here to remember it, I wouldn't have been catatonic, would I. Few questions before I sleep again, though. "Tsuzuki . . .?" 

    "He's here," Akimiya says with a reassuring nod. "Not right here, though. Tatsumi-san took him out for a while, I think to try to cheer him up. Or at least distract him. We've been waiting for you to wake up for days; it's been really hard on him. He'll be back by the next time you wake up." 

    "How long was I . . ." Was I what? I can't finish the question, because I don't know what the second half of it should be. 

    "Well, you got out of Hell about two weeks ago now," Akimiya says, and my eyes nearly fall out of my head. It's been two weeks? "But . . . well, it's kind of complicated and I'm not going to explain it right now. Now that you're awake, I'm going to get some sleep." 

    "You need it," I grumble, and I can feel myself drifting off again. Wait, just have to stay awake a little longer. Two more questions. Shake myself. "Muraki?" 

    "He's here too." Akimiya's nose wrinkles. "He was pretty badly hurt, but Watari helped him out once Tsuzuki said it was okay." 

    I don't remember Muraki being hurt, but I guess that's one of the things that Akimiya can explain once we're both awake. "And Ryuushi?" 

    Akimiya shrugs. "It's anyone's guess. Odds are pretty good that he was disintegrated by that blast at such close range. Especially since he had just been so badly wounded earlier. Even if he wasn't killed, he won't be bothering any of us for a long, long time. So don't worry about it." 

    Close my eyes. "Thought he still had me." 

    "It's okay, Hisoka," Akimiya says quietly. "You're safe now." 

    Safe. So I fall asleep again. 

~~~~ 

    When I wake up again, I feel much more alert, though I still can't really move much. I guess energy returns first to the mind, then to the body. Good to know for future reference. Akimiya is again sitting in the chair next to my bed, but the dark circles under his eyes are less pronounced. I guess he really must have gotten some sleep. 

    "Akimiya?" 

    He glances over at me and smiles a little. "Hey. How are you feeling?" 

    I analyze and come to a few conclusions. "Still cold, ravenously hungry, and I want Tsuzuki." Oops. That last part sort of fell out of my mouth. 

    "Well, you're not going to thank me, then, because I can only get you one out of three," Akimiya says dryly. "You have every spare blanket that Oriya-san owns, and Tsuzuki is asleep." 

    "Go get him," I say stubbornly. 

    "I would," Akimiya says thoughtfully, "but I don't dare. See, he's barely slept since you got here. Worried about you and all. And Tatsumi-san finally got him to fall asleep late last night, and told us that if anyone woke him for any reason less than the Apocalypse, he would personally disembowel them with their own shadow." 

    I blink at him. Then snicker. "Tatsumi must be having a bad day." 

    Akimiya sighs. "We've all been having bad days, Hisoka. It's been a very long two weeks. I'll go get you some soup." He walks out of the room and is gone for about five minutes, then comes back upstairs with a bowl of soup in his hands. Oriya is lurking behind him, carrying a mug of tea. 

    "Yo," he greets me. 

    Right. Brain, function. "Hi." 

    "Gave us all quite a scare there, kiddo," he says. 

    I manage a weak smile. I'd like to argue with his use of the word 'kiddo,' but seeing as I'm relying on his hospitality, don't dare. "How's Muraki?" 

    Oriya shrugs and sets the tea down on the end table. "He'll live. Takes more than that to get him down." 

    Which reminds me, I still don't know exactly what happened to Muraki. Or, for that matter, to me. "Ah." That's about all I can say. Oriya smirks at me and leaves the room. 

    Akimiya helps me sit up and props me up with a few pillows. Unfortunately for my dignity, he has to feed me the soup. My arms aren't quite up to working yet. It's really good, kind of a Chinese type of soup. Like wonton soup, except the noodles are really small so I can swallow without really chewing. 

    "Oriya-san made it," Akimiya tells me, seeing my questioning look. "He says all he's been doing all week is being nursemaid. Don't be too impressed, though; I think it was canned or dried or something." 

    I can't help but laugh. "So are you going to tell me what happened?" 

    "It isn't a pretty story," Akimiya warns me. 

    I give him a look. "Well, duh." 

    He laughs. "Where should I start?" 

    "The last thing I remember is the doorway to Hell closing with me still inside," I say, and frown slightly. "And Ryuushi . . ." A shiver runs through my body, and Akimiya thoughtfully gives me a minute to compose myself before aiming another spoonful of soup at my mouth. 

    "You don't remember what Tsuzuki did?" he asks quietly. 

    I shake my head. Then frown. "He . . . set the world on fire." 

    Akimiya nods slightly. "He channeled his power through you," he says, as if this is something that happens every day. "Synchronized with you and used your body to unleash that . . ." His voice trails off as he searches for the right word. Muraki called it a maelstrom, but that doesn't really seem right. Then Akimiya shrugs. "Anyway, Ryuushi was presumably killed in the ensuing destruction, the barrier between Hell and Chijou was collapsed, and you lost your mind." 

    I look at him. "Start at the second part of that sentence. If the barrier had collapsed, wouldn't they have merged?" 

    He shrugs. "You didn't destroy it wholesale, the way Ryuushi was trying to. It's just like you tore a section out of the wall. And I'm sure a lot of demons would've rushed through the hole, if the blast hadn't killed everything within a fifty-mile radius. On both sides, so it's damned lucky that it was in an empty part of the coutryside." 

    "Oh," I say. 

    "Anyway, we were already waiting, but no one you know was at that exit. There's more than one, you know. Ryuushi must have used that one because it was the closest to his home base. Of course, we all rushed there and patched up the hole." 

    I raise an eyebrow at him. "Interdimensional spackle?" I ask skeptically. 

    He grins. "Don't ask me how they did it." 

    "So what then?" I ask. 

    "Well, everyone thought you were done for. The gate had collapsed right on top of you. And Tsuzuki kind of lost it and started digging through the rubble." 

    "If the blast killed everything in a fifty-mile radius . . ." I say slowly. 

    Akimiya nods. "Since Tsuzuki was standing right behind you, so to speak, it probably would have killed him too. But Muraki knocked him down; that's how he wound up getting injured. The blast caught him in the back." 

    I give this due consideration, then nod for him to continue. Somehow, nothing Muraki does will surprise me anymore. 

    "Anyway, Tsuzuki was digging through and managed to pull you out. Tatsumi-san and I went to help him, and you were unconscious, but you were in one piece, so we thought you might be okay. But then . . . you opened your eyes and looked around a little, and started to babble. I mean, making absolutely no sense babbling. Tsuzuki . . . he reached out and touched your face, called your name . . . and you started screaming. Really, all out wailing. 

    "Tatsumi-san sort of turned away, and he told me later he knew then that your mind had been shattered by the power that had gone through it. Tsuzuki didn't seem to understand, though. He just kept calling your name, getting more and more hysterical, and you just kept screaming." Akimiya shudders a little. "It was . . . it was really bad. Tatsumi-san finally had to pull Tsuzuki away from you just so you'd shut up. 

    "We didn't know where to take you, since you weren't really Shinigami anymore and we sure weren't bringing Muraki to the Meifu, but Tsuzuki said he'd saved his life. Tsuzuki was coherent long enough to tell us to bring the two of you here, which we did, and called Watari to come look at the two of you." 

    He pauses in silence for a minute. The bowl of soup is empty, and he folds his hands in his lap. "Are you still hungry?" 

    "Yes, but I want the rest of the story more than food," I tell him. I'm dying to find out what happened. 

    "Well . . . Watari came and checked you out, and told Tatsumi-san and I that there was really nothing he could do for you. Tatsumi-san broke the news to Tsuzuki, and then, from what I can tell, spent the rest of the night trying to keep him from throwing himself off a bridge or coming to some equally unpleasant end. 

    "They would have just sent you on, but . . ." Akimiya hesitates and bites his lip. "But I didn't want them to." 

    I stare at him. "You what?" 

    "I just . . ." He shifts uncomfortably. "I just didn't want you to go without being able to say goodbye to any of us. Anyway, Tatsumi-san said he'd give you a week, but if you hadn't showed any progress, he would take you back to the Meifu and see you on. So I said okay. You had stopped babbling and just gone into catatonia, but then on the third night you had this massive screaming fit and Watari sedated you. 

    "So I figured you were asleep, I can go into sleeping people's minds, so I did." 

    I continue to stare. "Don't you have any idea how dangerous that is?" I ask incredulously, thinking back to when I was locked into Tsuzuki's mother's mind. 

    He shrugs, looking away. "Well, yeah, but . . . I had to try, you know? I couldn't just let you go. And anyway, your mind was just totally dark and empty, but the floor was . . . covered with shattered glass. I didn't get it, so I reached down for a piece." 

    "Shards of broken glass," I murmur. "Memories." 

    He nods. "Yeah. Since I was there, your mind had taken on a physical representation -- thus the glass. Whenever I picked it up, I saw a part of your Self. So I figured hell, I'd just put it all back together again. And I tried, I really, really did." He shrugs. "But I couldn't; there was too much that I didn't know where it went. 

    "Tatsumi-san had finally gotten Tsuzuki to fall asleep, so I pulled him in and asked him if he thought he could help. And he sort of blinked at me for a minute, then started sorting the glass. And together, the two of us managed to do it. Took us damn near a week just to get the pieces sorted, then three more days to put them all together in the right order. There were a few that even Tsuzuki didn't know where they went, but you know with a jigsaw puzzle, once you get to the end you can fit them in by shape." 

    I nod slightly. 

    "So we got it all put together. You hadn't moved or spoken since Watari had sedated you that first time, but when I came back out of your mind, your eyes were still closed. And it looked like you were really sleeping. So we figured maybe with a few days to rest and regain your energy, you'd be back. 

    "But it didn't happen. So I went back in and found that all the glass was starting to separate. I managed to shove it all back together, and then I asked Tatsumi-san about it. He said that none of us are really more than the sum of our memories, but that we're held together by our essence, our soul. And that's what was missing. That your soul wasn't there anymore." 

    He takes a few deep breaths and takes a sip of the tea that's supposed to be mine, then realizes it and holds it out to me. I let him hold it to my lips for a minute impatiently. "Anyway, I dragged Tsuzuki back in, and told him to just call to you. Which he did. God . . ." Akimiya pushes his hair out of his face. "He stood there for hours on end, just calling to you. I thought I was going to cry just listening to him. But nothing he said helped. Finally, he turned to me and said he couldn't do it. That your soul was gone, and he was the one who had killed it. And then he started to cry, so now I'm thinking crap, so I yanked Tatsumi-san in." 

    "And he started to yell at me," I say suddenly. Akimiya blinks at me. "That's . . . the only thing I remember from the whole time. Tatsumi screaming that I was being a selfish little brat for leaving Tsuzuki on his own like this. That was when I knew it was safe to come out. Because Ryuushi could have been faking the rest, could have pulled it from my mind . . ." I laughed slightly. "But my imagination could never come up with Tatsumi screaming." 

    Akimiya laughs slightly. "Yeah. When Tatsumi-san finished yelling, the pieces just all . . . snapped into place and sealed together. Then you . . . just sort of rose up through the glass that had just sealed, without breaking it. And you pulled Tsuzuki into a hug, then looked at Tatsumi-san and I and said you were tired. Then I woke up. You booted the three of us right out of your mind." 

    He shrugs. "That was two days before you woke up last time. We'd been waiting, and hoping . . . but it's been really hard for Tsuzuki." 

    I nod. I can sense him in the back of the mind, our link back in place the way it always was. He's definitely asleep, and I won't bother him. "Can I have some more soup now?" 

    "Sure," Akimiya says, and gets up to get some. He returns another minute later with a refilled bowl and helps me eat it in silence. 

    "Thanks," I finally say quietly. 

    He grins at me. "Hey, that's what partners are for." 

    _// "Because . . . you're my partner." // _

    "How long am I going to be an invalid?" I ask, trying not to sound too annoyed with that fact. 

    "Not sure," Akimiya says. "You've obviously been concentrating all your energy towards trying to put your mind back together, so I don't know how long it'll take you to get back up to par now that you don't have to worry about it. But I'd say at least another week in bed for you." 

    "Great," I mutter. 

~~~~ 

    Akimiya brings me a book and I read for a while, but I drift off back to sleep pretty quickly. It surprises me how much sleep I still seem to need, but I guess that it makes sense after what happened. To judge by the amount of light coming through the window, it's evening when I wake up again. The room is empty except for me. I wonder if Akimiya went home, to Rika. 

    But more importantly, I can feel Tsuzuki lingering on the edge of my senses. He's awake now, and close by, and I want to see him more than anything. A quick test of movement reveals that I'm not going anywhere. So he'll have to come to me, which is a bit of a trick since I can't send anyone to get him. 

    So I take hold of the link and give it a little tug. My empathy isn't doing much for me at the moment -- other people in the house are hazy, like they're very far away -- but my bond with him is just as strong as ever. Maybe even stronger. You can't do something like synch through a dimensional wall without there being consequences. 

    At my mental touch, I feel a surge of emotions from him -- and not the ones I was hoping for. Yes, there is love, and yes, there is relief that I'm okay, but they're both drowned by a wave of guilt and fear. I frown and give the link a harder tug. He won't be able to ignore that. Struggle into a sitting position, propping myself up against the headboard. 

    The door opens a minute later and he peeks in, looking apprehensive. God, why is he torturing himself like this? Doesn't he know I'm glad to see him? 

    I do the only thing I can; give him a warm smile and a "Konban wa, Tsuzuki." 

    He flinches inwardly, and walks into the room, shutting the door beside him. "How are you feeling?" he asks, and takes the chair next to my bed. This isn't the way I pictured our cute little reunion going. For one thing, I want a hug, damn it. 

    "I'm fine. Tired, but fine." I give him a critical look. "What's wrong with you?" I'm too tired to not be blunt. Whatever strange thing he's gotten into his head, now I'm going to have to talk him out of it. In general, no fun. 

    "Nothing!" He immediately gifts me with his huge, genki smile. I can't help but roll my eyes. "I'm fine, and now that you're fine we'll both be fine and do you want anything to eat? I could get cookies if you wanted and -- " 

    "Tsuzuki," I interrupt gently. "You remember that whole empathic link we have?" 

    He wilts instantly. "Maybe." 

    "Then stop trying to fool me." I reach out with one hand and touch his cheek. "Honestly. What's wrong?" 

    His face sort of crumples inwards and I can tell he's trying not to cry. "I . . . I nearly killed you." 

    Right. Knew it was going to be that. "Tsuzuki, I'm fine. Give me a week in bed and I'll be as good as new, I swear." 

    He shakes his head adamantly. "I hurt you. I promised to never let anyone hurt you, then I . . . I thought I had killed your soul, that I would never be able to see you again, the way you were . . ." The guilt pours out of him and makes me want to curl up and cry. God, this has been eating away at him ever since we left Hell. 

    "Tsuzuki," I say firmly, "what else could you have done? There weren't any other options. I chose to let you in, and I knew damn well what the consequences would be." 

    This stops him. He blinks at me, puzzled. "Y-You did?" 

    "Yeah," I said. "Hell, it nearly drove you crazy the first time you unleashed your powers, and Tatsumi had told me about that. I knew my mind wasn't strong enough to take it. But I let you in. I let you use me, because there was no other choice." I take his chin in my fingers and make him meet my eyes. "I would have rather died than been trapped by Ryuushi." 

    Let him go and shrugged. "Besides, in retrospect, I got off light. I thought it might tear my body apart, too." 

    Tsuzuki is just staring at me, and shakes his head stubbornly at this. "No. There must have been some other way. I shouldn't have . . . what we have is so special, and I used it to . . ." 

    "You used it to save me," I say firmly, reaching out and caressing his face again. "Tsuzuki, believe me, there was nothing else you could have done. And even if there was . . . I still love you. If you want I'll forgive you, even though there's nothing to forgive you for." Open up the bond and let him feel what I do, let him know that I'm telling the truth. 

    He leans forward and rests his head in my lap, closing his eyes. I can tell he's trying not to cry. I just run my fingers through his hair, trying to be as reassuring as I can. "I was so scared," he manages, and then the tears start to fall. 

    I open myself up to him, entering his mind, washing away the pain with love, smoothing over the guilt with forgiveness. It takes a long time before he finally falls silent, and rests quietly in my lap. The sky is fully dark. 

    "You . . ." He sits up and gives me a funny look. "You fixed me. You made it . . . stop hurting. Made me stop feeling it." 

    "Yeah," I say, and am struck by the sudden, paralyzing fear that he might be angry with me for doing it. For changing the way he felt. "I . . . I didn't like watching you hurt like that." 

    He rubs his eyes, then manages a smile. "Thank you," he says. "I feel much better now." 

    And then I get my hug. He pulls me into his arms in a sheltering gesture, holding me tightly. Then, after a long minute, lets me go. "You hungry?" 

    "Yeah," I say, but helping Tsuzuki has taken the last of my energy and I'm in desperate need of some sleep. "But nothing I have to chew." 

    He laughs and leaves the room, only to come back a few minutes later with a bowl. 

    "Oatmeal?" I ask him, raising an eyebrow. "I don't like oat -- " 

    "Meal unless it's got lots of brown sugar and butter and this does," he finishes for me with a bright smile. 

    I can't help but laugh. He helps me eat and then gives me a mug of tea. "You should get more sleep," he says. 

    "I know," I say, but even after the oatmeal and tea, I'm still cold. "Cold, though. There are no more blankets?" 

    "No," he says, and crawls under the covers with me. "But that's okay." 

    And it is. I snuggle up to the warmth he provides and fall asleep quickly, feeling safe and content. 

~~~~ 

_In the next chapter! Tatsumi, Oriya, Muraki, all the characters I've been neglecting! And, uhm, the end!_


	16. Chapter Fifteen

_Well, I want to thank everyone for reading. It's been a great ride. ^_^ This *is* the last fic in the trilogy. This is not to say that I will never write another Yami fic, but it does mean that *this* universe is finished. I'm not sure anything could top this in any case. Shoutout here to Kimura for providing me with the inspiration for Tsuzuki's last line. Also thanks to the people who did my fanart and my faithful beta readers and idea bouncers for all three fics, especially Karasu, Ria, RubyD, and Vul. Double especiallies to Karasu for putting up with me while I was writing Live Through and refused to tell her what was dream and what wasn't. And for putting up with me babbling on the car trip and figuring out the levels of Hell with me. ^_~ _

For questions or comments, please feel free to review or drop me an e-mail. 

And again, thanks. You guys have been a great audience. You didn't even lynch me once. 

  
  
  


Chapter Fifteen 

    As much as I truly hate being an invalid, there's something very nice about being brought breakfast in bed by Tsuzuki. Especially now that I have enough energy to eat it. Though I may have preferred to wake up with him next to me, instead. 

    "Don't be silly," Tsuzuki says with a grin when I mention that. "You've been sleeping for nearly fifteen hours. I got bored." 

    "Oh, I suppose you're forgiven then," I say teasingly. And then let him prop me up and even floof my pillow. Being able to fuss makes him feel better, so that's okay. "What's for breakfast?" 

    "Pancakes!" he says proudly. I decide not to point out that Western breakfast is what he prefers, not me. It might make him droop, and that's something I definitely don't want. Besides, I like pancakes. If nothing else, they're comfort food, because they always make me think of him. 

    "Open wide," he says, getting a forkful of pancake and aiming it at my mouth. 

    "Tsuzuki, you don't need to feed me," I say sternly, giving him an exasperated look. 

    "C'moooooon," he says, waving the piece of pancake in my face. 

    "Baka," I accuse, and open my mouth. 

    He feeds me the piece of pancake and smiles, looking altogether too pleased with himself. "Anyway, how are you feeling this morning?" he asks, getting another piece on his fork. Which is technically my fork. 

    "Better," I say. "A lot less fuzzy. My empathy is starting to clear up. And I can move my arms. Always a plus." 

    "You'll probably be up and about in a few days," Tsuzuki says. "Maybe later I'll take you outside. It's really nice out." 

    "That'd be good." Having seen the backyard of the Ko Kaku Rou, I know for a fact it's quite nice. Not that I was paying that much attention last time, given that Tsuzuki was missing and Oriya was in the process of slicing me open a few times, but hey! I'll take what I can get. 

    Tsuzuki continues to feed me the pancakes, and quite cheerfully finishes off what I don't have the appetite for. Which is quite a bit. I think he made far more than he knew I'd eat, solely so he'd be able to have some. Oh well, he wouldn't be Tsuzuki without the sweet tooth. 

    There's one bite left. He grins sweetly at me. "Open your mouth and close your eyes," he says. 

    "I'm not hungry," I tell him. "You can have it." 

    He just gives me a look. 

    "Oh, all right," I say, trying to sound grumpy but not doing a very good job. Close my eyes and open my mouth. Tsuzuki's lips brush against mine. "Mm," I say. "Better than pancakes." I lift one arm up and drape it around his shoulders, pulling him closer. Much kissing and cuddling ensues. And, well, a bit more than that. There goes the rest of my energy. 

    There's a slight cough from the doorway. Tsuzuki meeps and scrambles back into his chair. "T-Tatsumi," he stammers, seeing the formidable secretary standing in the doorway. 

    Tatsumi is smiling very slightly. "Am I interrupting?" 

    "Tatsumi, you jerk," I say. "You know damn well that you're interrupting. Come on in." 

    Tatsumi still smiles, and walks in. Tsuzuki moves to sit on the edge of the bed, so Tatsumi can have the chair. "I see you're feeling better, Kurosaki-kun," he says, the smile turning slightly smirk. 

    "Much, thank you," I say, but damn it, I know I'm turning pink. Stupid blush reflex. Just because Tatsumi walked in on us making out, that's nothing to be embarrassed about, right? Right? I mean, we're married, so in theory he must know that we're -- 

    This is stupid. Right, moving on. 

    He gives me a look over the rims of his glasses. "You're very lucky to have survived, you know." 

    "No, I'm not," I say with a smile. "Luck had nothing to do with it. I'm very loved." 

    He nods slightly, and smiles again. 

    "Thank you, by the way." 

    Tatsumi blinks, looking slightly puzzled. "For what?" 

    "For yelling at me when I needed it." I grin and shrug. "For keeping me from doing one of the stupidest things I could have possibly done." 

    Tatsumi shrugs. 

    "No, really. I never would have been able to do it without you. I thought . . ." I haven't talked to Tsuzuki about this yet, but it's important that he knows, so I will. "I thought that Ryuushi still had me. That I was hallucinating when . . . when I heard Tsuzuki or Akimiya. And that was part of the reason I wouldn't come out. When I heard you, I knew it had to be real, because that was something my imagination never would have come up with." 

    Tatsumi laughs a little. "I'll admit that I was a bit upset." 

    I raise an eyebrow at him. "If that was a bit upset, I'd hate to see you very upset." Though in retrospect, I think I have. When Muraki attacked us with those . . . bird thingies, and Tatsumi showed up and rescued us. In a purely retrospective manner, that was really cool. 

    "Yes," Tatsumi says, with another slight smirk. "You would." 

    "So what's up?" I ask. "Or did you just come to check on me?" 

    "Mostly I came to check on you," he says. "But also to tell you that I'm seeing EnmaDaiOh tomorrow morning. About . . . your status as a Shinigami." 

    I can't help but wince. "Peachy." 

    Tatsumi sighs slightly. "I'll do my best, you know that." 

    "I know," I say with a shrug. "But will it be enough?" 

    "We'll have to wait and see," Tsuzuki says firmly, and leans over to kiss my forehead. "It doesn't matter. If we survived this, we can survive anything." 

    "Baka." I give him a light smack on the top of the head. "You'll jinx us." 

    He laughs and kisses me again, this time on the lips, showing absolutely no concern for the fact that Tatsumi is in the room. Which of course sends me off into fits of blushing again. Damn it. We have to get Tatsumi a boyfriend or something. 

    But maybe not. I think I've had enough excitement for a while, and that would be enough of an adventure to keep us occupied for years. Well, maybe later. Somehow, getting Tatsumi to think about someone other than Tsuzuki seems like it'd be harder than getting in and out of Hell. 

    "In any case," Tatsumi says, clearing his throat, "I'll let you two get back to what you were doing." 

    I stick my tongue out at him, but he just smiles unremorsefully and leaves the room. I decide to be a prick, if he's going to be one. "Make sure you shut the door on your way out." 

    "Of course, Kurosaki-kun," he says, and does so. 

    "Now," Tsuzuki says, turning to me. "Where were we?" There's a soft smile on his face as he leans down to kiss me. 

    I reach up and brush my hands through his hair. "Right about here." 

~~~~ 

    My first excursion out of bed is to the bathroom. How . . . terribly embarrassing, somehow. Tsuzuki has to help me out of bed, but after that I proclaim myself fit to walk to the bathroom myself. Mostly because there's only so much I can blush before I start to leak blood from my eyeballs. 

    So I shuffle along carefully, keeping one hand on the wall to keep my balance. My knees still feel shaky and weak, but it's better than being carried. As I'm leaving, I pass Muraki and Oriya in the hallway, apparently on the way to the same destination. I say that because Oriya is supporting Muraki in much the same manner Tsuzuki wanted to support me, and Muraki looks like crap. 

    I blink at him. I knew, intellectually, that he must have been pretty damned hurt if he'd gotten caught in the blast, but it hadn't really clicked. There's nothing I can put my finger on, not exactly. He just looks bad. There are dark shadows under his eyes and he moves slowly, stiffly. 

    Not much to say. So I say the obvious. "Hi." 

    He smirks at me. Still trying to be the cool one even though he looks like he's going to fall over at any moment. "Konnichi wa." 

    Right, remember to be civil. Remember that he saved Tsuzuki's life and must be civil. "How are you feeling?" 

    "About as well as you look," he says. "You?" 

    "About as well as I look," I reply. Oriya rolls his eyes, apparently disgusted with the both of us. I'm not particularly sure I blame him. Force myself to say it, because eventually I'm going to have to. "Thank you." 

    "For what?" he asks, raising an oh-so-elegant eyebrow at me. I'm not afraid of him anymore, and I'm not sure I still hate him, but I'm sure as hell never going to like him. Arrogant bastard that he is. 

    "For saving Tsuzuki's life," I say grudgingly, and resist the urge to add 'of course' or 'you stupid idiot' or any of the other many things I'd like to add. 

    Muraki shrugs. "Somebody had to." 

    "Were you intending to die?" I ask coolly. Oriya flinches. I think I just asked the one question he's purposely been avoiding ever since we got here. 

    "No," Muraki says. "Not precisely. I knew it was a possibility, of course." 

    "Of course," I say. "Death is always a possibility. Did you hope you would die?" 

    Oriya doesn't flinch. His face is a stone cold mask, hiding whatever he's feeling. I could feel for it, of course, but for now I let it be. 

    "Not that precisely, either," Muraki says with a slight smile. I know what he's feeling without really trying. Killing Saki may have fulfilled his purpose, but it also left him without one. I glance at Oriya, then sigh and set about doing something I never in a thousand years pictured myself doing -- making Muraki feel better. 

    "Look, you unmitigated asshole," is how I start, and Muraki's lips twitch in another slight smile. "I don't like you. I never have and I never will. But you saved my husband and even though I don't consider that I owe you for that, I at least feel obligated to talk you out of your stupidity. You saved Tsuzuki because you believed he deserved life more than you. Am I right?" 

    He nods, very slightly. 

    "Then keep in mind that it's bullshit. No one is more deserving of life than anyone else. I've had to kill ten year old children that did nothing wrong, except escape death. You don't want to talk to a Shinigami about who deserves to live. Everyone does. Just some people don't wind up living, that's all. And no matter how much I hate you, I won't say differently. Life has nothing to do with worth, Muraki, and you'd do well to keep that in mind." 

    He gives me a cool glance. "I'm not sure I believe you actually mean that." 

    I glare back. "If I was given a choice and either you or Tsuzuki had to die, believe me, I wouldn't even have to think for a millisecond before I chose your death. But that's my opinion, based on my emotions and past experience. It's not based on worth. It's based on love." I give Oriya a sideways look. "I think some other people might choose differently from me." 

    Muraki says nothing to that. 

    "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going back to bed." Done with my inspiring speech of the day. Push past him and nearly fall. 

    "I'll help you back," Oriya says, getting an arm around my shoulders. Muraki is leaning against the wall, looking on impassively. 

    I allow Oriya to help me, more because I think he wants to talk to me than because I really want the help. 

    "Thank you for that," he says quietly, after we rounded the corner. 

    I shrug. "Anything I might have owed him is paid. Next time I see him, all bets are off." 

    Oriya laughs. "Sure, that's what they all say." 

    I sigh as we walk down the hallway. "What did you want to ask me?" 

    He smirks at me. "You're pretty sharp, you know. Did you mean what you said to him?" 

    "Yeah." I sigh slightly. "I did." 

    "He's being a prick," Oriya says irritably. "He could have been out of bed days ago if he'd just heal himself. But he won't. Stupid asshole. I guess he thinks it's some sort of penance or something." 

    "Penance." I roll my eyes. 

    "I was wondering what might make him be such an idiot," Oriya says. "Thought you might know, being an empath and all." 

    "I suppose it leads back to what happened with Saki," I say with a sigh. 

    Oriya is on this statement in seconds. "You know what happened with Saki?" he demands. 

    I give him a funny look. "Well, sure. I was there. He wouldn't tell you?" At Oriya's head shake, I continue. "Muraki killed him. Ripped his soul right to shreds. It was sort of cool, you know, in a he-was-really-evil sort of way. But Saki said some things which are probably bothering Muraki a bit. About how if Muraki killed him, it would only be the final step to becoming him. That he had spent his entire life becoming what he despised." 

    Oriya lets out a very vehement and rather impressive swear. 

    I can't help but snort. "Apparently Saki would've grown up to become a psychotic murdering child rapist, too." 

    Oriya flinches again. "Of all the things Muraki has done that bother me . . ." 

    "Forget about it," I say wearily. "It doesn't matter anymore." 

    "You know," he says thoughtfully, "I was first friends with him before he was like . . . all this. I watched as he became more and more corrupted, and I remained friends with him because . . . I suppose because I thought I could help him. Because I wanted to keep him from turning totally evil. But in the end it didn't really help." 

    I shrug. "You don't know that. You only know what evil he did do. You don't know what evil he may have done if you hadn't been there." 

    Silence for a moment. 

    Then I let out a sigh. "And you didn't stay with him because of that," I say. "You stayed with him because you were in love with him, and still are." 

    He gives me a glance, but says nothing. 

    There's another moment of long silence. 

    "Love is a really strange thing, isn't it," I finally say. 

    Oriya lights a cigarette. "Yeah." 

    We're at my dorm. I turn to face him. "I think you and Muraki are going to be all right," I say with a shrug. "No real reason why. I just do." 

    He smiles at me, the first real smile I've ever seen from him. "Thanks." 

~~~~ 

    The next afternoon, Tsuzuki picks me up and carries me out into the backyard. The weather is nice; just warm enough to sit around in a sweater and jeans that Tsuzuki very carefully helped me into, but enough of a breeze to keep it from being hot. The leaves are starting to turn. One thing I miss about Chijou. 

    Tsuzuki settles down on a blanket that he already brought outside. He didn't really need to carry me, but insisted on doing it anyway. He sits Indian-style and I settle in his lap, resting my back against his chest. His arms come around my waist and I rest my head on his shoulder. For a long while, we just sit and enjoy each other's presence. 

    We're so close now it's almost like being one person. And I love it. I love knowing that I'm never going to be alone again. I could live forever with only him, I think. 

    So we just sit outside and rest comfortably in each other's presence. It's a while before I notice we're not alone in the backyard, since it is definitely a big yard. Oriya and Muraki are sitting on the other side. Oriya is leaning against one of the large rocks that adorn the yard, and Muraki is lying down with his head in Oriya's lap. Very cute. 

    Did I just use the word cute to describe Muraki? Something must be seriously wrong with this. 

    "Ne, Tsuzuki?" I ask quietly. "When I was . . . well, crazy . . . just after the explosion, you were in my mind, and you gave me your ring back." 

    "Did I?" Tsuzuki asks casually, but I can feel him tense. He's still wearing his ring, so I'm not too worried, but I'd like to at least clarify. "I don't remember it." 

    "Yeah. You said it was . . . for my sacrifice." 

    "Maybe subconsciously I thought I couldn't uphold my part of the bargain?" he says, sounding curious. "My death for your life . . ." 

    "Could be," I say. "I want to be sure you're not going anywhere, though." 

    He chuckles. "Does it look like I am?" 

    "Nope." I snuggle back into his embrace and let out a contented little sigh. 

    "Oyy!" There's a flurry of activity and Watari comes bouncing up to join us. Akimiya is walking behind him, rolling his eyes slightly but looking pleased enough. "No one answered at the front, so we just came back here," Watari says, plopping down on the blanket across from us. "How're you feeling, kiddo?" 

    "Better," I say, and try not to scowl at the pet name, which he's been using ever since he's known me. "How are things up in the Meifu?" 

    "Borrrrring," Watari complains, and begins to regale us with the story of his latest invention. Akimiya settles beside him. Oh, look, they brought a picnic. How very cute. Akimiya shares out sandwiches and tea. 

    About an hour passes of random chatting. After a while, Muraki and Oriya come over to join us. Oriya is tugging on his wrist so hard it looks like Muraki might fall over. Apparently he's quite reluctant, and I'm not surprised. But Akimiya and Watari make room for them on the blanket without comment. 

    "Konnichi wa," Tatsumi says, as he walks up. He takes a seat on the blanket. 

    Tsuzuki and I glance at each other, and I can feel the tremor of fear run through him even as it runs through me. "Konnichi wa," we echo faintly. 

    "I just returned from speaking with EnmaDaiOh," Tatsumi says, as if we could possibly have forgotten that. "Apparently, he feels that this . . . misadventure . . . was a sufficient test of Kurosaki-kun's skills." He looks at me. "You're free to return to being a Shinigami, if you wish." 

    "Of course I wish," I snap, but Tatsumi holds up his hand to silence me. 

    "He also decreed that . . ." Tatsumi stops and swallows hard. If I didn't know him better, I'd say he felt and looked afraid. "That Tsuzuki-san's penance is complete." 

    Tsuzuki's head whips around like it's on a string. He stares at Tatsumi wordlessly. 

    "And that he may move on, if he so chooses." Tatsumi is obviously taking a lot of effort to keep himself calm. "And that Kurosaki-kun may also do so, in order to stay with Tsuzuki-san, if he so chooses." 

    There's a long moment of silence. Everyone looks poleaxed, and no one more than Tsuzuki and I. I feel a surge of emotion from him -- relief and joy, but more than that. Indecision and confusion. He doesn't know what he wants to do. 

    The silence is allowed to linger as the breeze stirs all our hair. Tsuzuki just sits there. 

    "Ne, Tatsumi?" I finally ask. "Did you ever figure out how Ryuushi escaped from his prison?" 

    Tatusmi looks surprised at this total non sequitir -- which, to me, isn't a non sequitir at all. "No. Why do you ask?" 

    I frown. "You don't think EnmaDaiOh would have . . ." 

    Tatsumi starts. This, obviously, had not occurred to him. "Why on earth would he have?" he asks cautiously, in that way Tatsumi has of never making assumptions, even the most obvious ones. 

    "Well, for Tsuzuki to truly finish his penance, he would have had to face him eventually, wouldn't he?" I say. "So doing it then, when it seemed like Tsuzuki might escape . . ." 

    Another long moment of silence follows. No one knows what to say. 

    Tsuzuki's hand closes on mine. _What do you want to do?_ he asks me. Communicating silently is much easier now. 

    _I don't know,_ I answer. _I don't want to deprive you of what you've waited so long for. But at the same time, I want to stay. Because of Akimiya and Rika, and Watari, and Tatsumi. Especially Tatsumi. He'll never admit it, but he isn't ready to let you go yet. _

    Aa. I know. 

    There's more silence. It seems like it's echoing in my ears. I'll leave the decision up to Tsuzuki, because he's the one with a right to make it. 

    Tsuzuki finally yawns and stretches and reaches for the tea. "I suppose we should be getting back soon, now that that's cleared up, ne?" he asks cheerfully. "Not that we haven't enjoyed your hospitality, Oriya," he adds with a smile. "But I think it's probably time we went home." 

    Oriya just nods. 

    Tatsumi looks at Tsuzuki, and I can feel his confusion and slowly dawning hope. "Home?" he asks. 

    "Of course!" Tsuzuki says. "In Heaven they probably don't have chocolate cake and apple pie and mousse and -- " 

    Everyone laughs. "You don't need sweets in Heaven," I remind him. 

    "I know," Tsuzuki says. "But that doesn't mean I won't want them!" 

    Tatsumi smiles, and for a minute I think he might reach out and touch Tsuzuki, but he doesn't. "Thank you," is all he says, but it's all he needs to say. 

    The day slowly fades away. Tatsumi has to leave first, claiming that he has work to do. Watari reluctantly departs not long after. Akimiya stays for a while, but eventually he also has to leave. He's going home to Rika, of course. So very sweet. Bittersweet, perhaps, but still sweet. And certainly better than nothing, which is what they almost had. Muraki falls asleep and Oriya stands up to bring him inside. 

    "Ne, Tsuzuki," I ask, for the second time that day. 

    "Hm?" he asks, and snuggles closer to me. 

    "Did you want to go?" 

    "To Heaven?" he asks. 

    "Yeah." I'll admit to being a little nervous. I don't want him to be upset about his lost chance. He could have gone, could have been free from all this, but he chose to stay for me. Maybe for others, but mostly for me, because I wasn't ready to leave yet, and he knew it. 

    He laughs softly, and turns me around so I'm facing him. "You're silly, Hisoka." 

    "Just answer my question, idiot," I reply. 

    Tsuzuki shrugs and smiles. "Why would I need to go to Heaven?" he asks. "I'm already there." And he draws me close to him and kisses me, then kisses me again, and again, and again. 

  
  


~owari~ 


End file.
